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'LIBRARY OF CONGRESS." 

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UNITED STATES OK AMERICA 



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SERMONS 



BY 

/ 

RICHARD FULLER, 

\ i 

PREACHED DURING HIS MINISTRY WITH THE 

SEVENTH AND EUTAW PLACE BAPTIST CHURCHES, 

BALTIMORE, 1847—1876, 

PREPARED BY HIMSELF. 



"Quisquis haec legit, ubi pariter, certus est, pergat mecum ; ubi pariter 
haesitat, quserat mecum ; ubi errorem suum cognoscit, redeat ad me ; 
ubi meum, revocet me."— St. Augustine, de Trin. i. 5. 



0° FIRST SERIES. 



Baltimore : 

PUBLISHED BY JOHN F. WEISHAMPEL, JR. 

PHILADELPHIA: AMERICAN BAPTIST PUBLICATION SOCIETY 

NEW YORK : SHELDON AND COMPANY. 

[Copyright, 1877.] 



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"Preface. 



The following Sermons are published in accordance with the 
dying request of their lamented author. Several years before his 
decease, Dr. Fuller prepared them for publication with especial 
care. Correcting his original notes, they were then placed in the 
hands of a friend to be copied. The copy was subsequently re- 
vised ; and so thoroughly was the work done that when the man- 
uscripts were opened, they were found to be in complete readiness 
for the press. 

.Posthumous discourses of eminent ministers are often given to 
the world. But these are generally selected by surviving friends 
from such imperfect materials as may be accessible. In this case 
we have those which the author himself designated for publica- 
tion, and which received his final review. It is quite unusual 
for Pastors, amid the demands of their engrossing work, to pre- 
pare discourses to be read after they have ceased to speak. That 
two such volumes as are now presented to the public should be 
furnished by Dr. Fuller, is a witness both to his industry and his 
zeal in the service of Jesus. 

It is probable that these Sermons are published nearly as they 
were delivered. It was the author's habit in preaching to have 
every important thought carefully premeditated. Not unfre- 
quently he employed the very words which had been pre- 
arranged. Many will recognize in these glowing pages ex- 
pressions often heard from the living voice. The language 
will serve to recall the tone, the features, the very gesture of 
the beloved speaker, though the eloquent tongue is silent ; and im. 
pressions, partially effaced by time, will be revived. Others, who 



8 



Richard Fuller's Sermons, 



did not enjoy the benefit of his personal ministry, will find in 
the lucid statement, the pathetic appeal, the Scriptural exposition, 
the fervent rhetoric and the heavenly unction which abound in 
these discourses, an ample explanation of his commanding power 
in the pulpit. 

It is an occasion of profound gratitude to God that though the 
majestic form which went in and out among us is in ruins, and 
the tones which so often stirred our hearts are hushed, these pre- 
cious truths he spoke, selected and reviewed by himself, remain 
for our profit and delight. As these Sermons proved the power 
of God unto salvation unto many who heard them, God grant 
that they may conduce to the spiritual good of all who may read 
them. 

W. T. B. 

Baltimore, July, 1877, 




pEDICATIOJi 



T DEDICATE these Discourses to "all thetn that love our 
Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity ;" and especially to the 
Churches in Baltimore over which I have been pastor for so 
many laborious but happy years. To the deacons and members 
of these Churches I would say, Here is my " endeavor that ye 
may be able, after my decease, to have these things always in 
remembrance." 

RICHARD FULLER. 



f ONTEJ^T£. 



PAGE. 

I. The Gospel not a Philosophy, but a Revelation 13 

II. The Star of Bethlehem 35 

III. Bible Testimony the Best Testimony 55 

IV. Bible Testimony the Best Testimony 66 

V. The Good Samaritan — a Charity Sermon 76 

VI. What will You do with Jesus ? 95 

VII. The Penitent of Nain Ill 

VIII. The Lamb of God 127 

IX. The Redeemer's Agony and Prayer 151 

X. John's Message to Jesus 169 

XI. Joy in the Lord 190 

XII. Mercy Remembered in Wrath 211 

XIII. The Christian Delivered from Fear of Death 235 

XIV. Prosperity and Adversity 263 

XV. Christians to be Lights and Examples 284 

XVI. Love to Christians an Evidence of Conversion 303 

XVII. Christ our Passover 317 

XVIII. Simeon's Faith and Consolation 333 



Sbmttou iFirst. 



THE 

GOSPEL NOT A PHILOSOPHY, 

BUT A REVELATION. 

"Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart 
of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love him ; 
but God hath revealed them unto us by his Spirit."— I Cor. 2 : 9-10. 

AFTER the confession which Scott, Chalmers and 
others have left as to their early ministry, there can 
be no uncharitableness in fearing that there are multi- 
tudes who would be shocked if they were charged with 
infidelity, who devoutly read the Scriptures every day 
and never doubt their truth, but who yet do not believe 
these Scriptures ; that many are very zealous and eloquent 
in preaching about religion, who are themselves utterly 
ignorant of the religion of the Gospel, and of the faith, the 
peace, the joy of that Gospel. 

A man depressed by deep habitual melancholy applied 
to a physician in London to know what could relieve him 
from this settled gloom. His medical adviser counselled 
him to go and hear a celebrated actor who was every night 
convulsing crowds with mirth. "Alas," replied the pa- 
tient, "I am myself that actor." If, as we are told, the 
actor can teach the preacher, it is only where the preach- 
er is an actor ; but the confession of this comedian may 
well bring us all to serious thought. For something like 
this may be going on in other matters than the drama, 
on other boards besides the stage. In religion; in a 
church where Sabbath after Sabbath there are finished 
compositions in the pulpit and reverent audiences in the 
pews; all may be, on one part, only a theatrical exhibi- 
tion, and on the other part only an imposing spectacle — 
a most deceitful illusion. 



14 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

Baffled, humbled, instructed by the failure of his phi- 
losophical dissertations at Athens, Paul visited Corinth, 
with a fixed purpose "not to know anything but Jesus 
Christ and him crucified;" and you remember how rich 
was the harvest he there reaped. The fame of his elo- 
quence, of his powers of reasoning and of his new doctrines, 
had probably preceded him, as Corinth was not far from 
Athens; but his conceited and fastidious hearers were 
disappointed in the subject to which he scrupulously 
adhered. Christ crucified was foolishness to these Greeks, 
who sought after questions of human wisdom. In this 
chapter the apostle vindicates his course; declaring that 
the doctrines of the Gospel are not theories of human dis- 
covery, nor theses for human speculation, but truths re- 
vealed directly by the Spirit; truths not to be established 
by reasoning, by "the excellency of speech or of wisdom," 
but truths resting where a true religion must rest — upon 
"the testimony of God." The text is often quoted, as if 
it referred to the invisible glories of heaven; this is a 
palpable mistake, for the things here spoken of have been 
revealed. "Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither 
have entered into the heart of man, the things which 
God hath prepared for them that love him ; but God 
hath revealed them unto us by his Spirit." 

T. The disclosures of the Gospel are the things indi- 
cated in the passage before us. And, entering at once in- 
to the subject, I remark, that Christianity is not a comple- 
ment of natural religion, not a new phase, a perfect de- 
velopement of truths partially known before, but a distinct 
message, a peculiar interposition, a direct communication 
from God, of things entirely novel. It is news, "glad 
tidings of great joy," sent immediately from heaven to 
earth. It is intelligence confirmed by the divine veracity, 
and therefore announced dogmatically to the recipiency 
of faith. 

Let me not be misunderstood. Far be it from me to 
unite with those who depreciate the knowledge which is 
derived from nature. Philosophy having attempted to 
set the works of God against his word, to exalt nature by 
detracting from the glory of revelation, orthodoxy has 



The Gospel not a Philosophy, but a Revelation. 1 5 



taken the alarm and gone to the other extreme, seeking to 
extol the Bible by degrading reason and nature. At 
any time, but especially in this age of bold, restless sci- 
entific investigation, such advocacy is most damaging to 
the cause of truth. The Gospel does not contradict nor 
supersede nature; it recognizes, it requires, much that 
is natural to man, and without which a revelation would 
be impossible. 

What are the sacred oracles? — they are a compilation 
of inspired words. Are these Avords found first in this 
book? Certainly not; they had been in common use 
long before they were adopted as vehicles of heavenly 
truth. In speaking to you, I must employ terms which 
you understand; and in giving us a revelation, God must 
address us in a language and by images to which we are 
accustomed; otherwise there can be no communication. 
As I make this statement, it seems to you self-evident; 
yet in polemical controversies it is overlooked, and we 
are gravely told that, in imparting his instructions, Je- 
sus sometimes used phrases not in the ordinary vernacular 
sense, but with a new, cabalistic, theological signification. 

Nor is revelation dependent upon nature only for the 
medium by which it must be conveyed ; it supposes much 
knowledge which is derived from nature. Around 
every man now born, the old creation lies fresh and new, 
just as it lay around the first man ; and this creation is 
the volume from which we receive our earliest impres- 
sions. Long before we can read the inspired page, other 
pages are unfolded to our senses and minds; and from 
these we obtain information, which is not only necessary 
to our existence, but is indispensable, if we are to attach 
any meaning to the language of the Bible. 

Our text recognizes the senses as avenues of important 
knowledges, and the mind (for this is the import of the 
phrase rendered "the heart of man'') as an endowment 
which achieves sublime triumphs in science and wisdom. 
The eyes see. Upon these exquisitely delicate orbs are pen- 
cilled all the loveliness of the earth by day and all the 
starry glories of the heavens by night. The ears hear. — 
Notes of joy, of sorrow, of pain, of pleasure, the cries of 
fear, the tender accents of friendship, harsh discords and 



16 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

sweet, soft harmonies, penetrate these vocal chambers. — 
Then, too, how much " enters into the mind of man ;" 
the intellect with its far-reaching thoughts, overstepping 
the grave and wandering into eternity ; the conscience 
with its clear light and severe authority ; the fancy with 
its exhaustless creations ; memory expatiating through 
all the past; hope gilding all the future; faith, love, 
that inward sense of beauty, truth, purity, which instinct- 
ively discovers the true and good and beautiful around 
us, — these, all these, are faculties of the human mind, 
and they teach us much, they speak to us with a voice 
more potent than that of any outward monitor. 

We dishonor God, we repudiate the Bible, when we 
debase one department of knowledge for the purpose of 
recommending another ; when we either deny that nature 
teaches anything, or admit that there is any discrepancy 
between works proceeding from the same divine Author. 
Nature is the oldest revelation we have of God, manifest- 
ing many "invisible things of him;" but nature is not 
the revelation required for such a being as man. 

There is a principle in our constitution which, I be- 
lieve would have rendered a special interposition by God 
necessary, even if man had never fallen. Familiarity 
soon produces indifference. The uniformity, the mono- 
tony of Nature would have made us insensible to her 
teachings. But man is plainly a fallen being. He is 
self-absorbed and absorbed by the earth ; and if he is to 
be recalled to a sense of his true duty, dignity, destiny, 
he must have a teacher more rousing and urgent than 
Nature. Enveloped in the senses and passions, he wishes 
not to be disturbed, and easily closes his ear to tones re- 
served and gentle. His attention must be arrested by a 
voice direct, loud, striking, which will compel him to 
listen. 

I will not however insist upon this point. The doc- 
trine of the text which I wish to impress upon you is, 
that the annunciations of the Gospel are truths entirely 
different from everything which our senses or our intel- 
lects ever discovered ; that they are a pure, direct revela- 
tion made by the Holy Spirit. Philosophy, falsely so 
called, has pretended that the idea of a revelation from 



The Gospel not a Philosophy, hut a Revelation. V 



God is unnatural ; and we grow up with I know not what 
lurking scepticism as to a fact withoutwhich our preach- 
ing is presumption and your hearing is folly. But this 
is only another proof of our blindness and degeneracy. — 
To unperverted reason, it seems not only probable, but 
almost certain, that some information would come to us 
directly from heaven. 

God is our Father ; he is not an architect who has 
fashioned us, and then fcrsaken the work of his hands; 
he is our Father. Is it strange that a parent should have 
intercourse with his children ? God is " the Father of 
our spirits." Compared with him and our relations to 
him, all other beings — those united to us by the closest 
ties — are strangers and foreigners; is it unreasonable that 
he should communicate to us messages of love and coun- 
sels of paternal wisdom ? In accents of piercing tender- 
ness he summons the universe to rise up in horror at the 
hideous phenomenon presented in our apostasy from him. 
"Hear, heavens, and be astonished earth, for I have 
nourished and brought up children, and they have re- 
belled against me." Would it be less monstrous that he 
should abandon us ? 

Another thought. We feel that we are immortal, and 
within us are irrepressible longings to know something 
about that immortality. On every side we are surround- 
ed by that great mystery, death. Multitudes whom we 
once knew, some of them dearer to us than life, have dis- 
appeared from this scene of action. Where, what are 
they now? To-morrow, we too must enter upon that in- 
terminable existence. Where, what shall we be ? Com- 
pared with these questions, all other enquiries, all other 
investigations are perfectly insignificant. We yearn to 
know something of the life beyond the grave; but the 
senses, reason, science, experience, afford not a single 
glimpse of the unseen world. Is it incredible that the 
Eternal Father should vouchsafe us the knowledge which 
so unspeakably concerns us, and for which he has im- 
planted in our souls such inextinguishable desires ? 

Add, too, that by the communion of a parent's mind 
with the minds of his children, the ties between them are 
drawn closer; reverence, gratitude, love are awakened 



18 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

and nourished in the hearts of the family. If we could 
gather from nature the knowledge we need, especially on 
such subjects as sin and salvation from sin, God would 
not be throned in our affections as "the Father of lights." 
Instead of ascending to him in humble, adoring docil- 
ity, our thoughts would turn proudly and self-compla- 
cently towards another teacher, from whom, by our own 
researches, Ave had extorted that tuition which an unna- 
tural father had refused to give us. I rejoice that be- 
tween God and the human race there exist the affinities 
and sympathies which spring up between the teacher and 
the taught; that the Divine Mind acts directly upon our 
minds, and thus begins and carries on the education 
which is to regenerate and invigorate our moral nature 
now, and to prepare us for life and immortality beyond 
the tomb. 

The religion of Jesus does not depreciate nature. It 
recognizes man's rational faculties and honors the im- 
portant knowledge they teach. Still the Gospel is not 
an advance in natural religion, not an ampler supplement 
of things which the senses and intellect had imperfectly 
disclosed. It is a direct, original revelation of things 
which "eye had never seen, nor ear heard, neither had 
entered into the heart of man." This is our first propo- 
sition. 

II. I pass now to our second article, and affirm that the 
truths of the Gospel are not only things of which Nature 
had given no previous intimation, but things as to which 
Nature never could have conceived any sort of presenti- 
ment. 

I have said that reason would teach us to expect a rev- 
elation from God; but in the light of the Gospel all the 
anticipations of reason were and must ever have been so 
many imbecilities; just as a candle becomes ridiculous 
when the sun rises. We cannot open the Xew Testament 
without confessing the truth of this assertion. We lind 
there, it is true, a religion which so commends itself to 
our conscious necessities, so wonderfully meets our deep- 
est, most essential wants, so interprets and satisfies all the 
articulate, prophetic longings of the soul, that it carries 



The Gospel not a P7iilosop7iy, but a He rein Hon. 19 

along with.it self-authenticating credentials; but its 
communications entirely transcend the discoveries which 

our senses or our reason ever could have made. 

The senses are organs of surpassing, of divine work- 
manship, and how vast the knowledge which they can 
impart. By them I may explore the whole field of na- 
ture, may riot in all the charms of the landscape, in all 
the pomp and majesty of the azure firmament and the 
sparkling canopy. Through them I can take in strains 
of thrilling, enrapturing music. But where, in all the 
exuberant brilliancy of the magnificent panorama, can I 
find a single ray of light to guide my feet in the way of 
salvation ? 0, this is the knowledge I want, I must 
have. All sublunary interests sink into contempt, when 
compared with the interests of the undying spirit. But 
as to these Nature is entirely mute; not a faint whisper 
comes to me from the waving forest, not a murmur 
breathes from the solemn groves, not a solitary beam 
shines in the nightly empyrean fires, or in the streaming 
splendors of the orb of day. The voices of Nature — 
snowy summits, smiling valleys, tossing seas, flowing riv- 
ers, gushing fountains, the teeming earth, the spangled 
skies — lisp not a single syllable. Vainly do I investigate 
creation, vainly question the universe. "Day unto day 
uttereth speech, night unto night sheweth knowledge." 
There are visible melodies, silent but ravishing harmon- 
ies, the unfading anthems of sun, moon, stars — which 
have for ages been appealing to the population of this 
globe. "There is no speech nor language where their 
voice is not heard." Very marvellous was the gift of 
tongues on the day of Pentecost, when the pilgrims from 
different lands heard the Apostles "speak in their own 
tongues the wonderful works of God and were amazed." 
But far more wonderful is that power of utterance with 
which these old preachers, ordained at the creation, have, 
from their pulpit in the skies, been incessantly proclaim- 
ing the glory of God in a language vernacular to our com- 
mon humanity. These teachers, however, know nothing, 
say nothing, can know nothing, never can say anything 
of that salvation from sin which is the one great necessity 
to man. 



20 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

Our text refers to faculties nobler than the' senses, but 
it exults Revelation high above this imperial endowment. 
The distinction which the Apostle makes is strictly meta- 
physical. We do not acquire all our knowledge by in- 
terrogating and interpreting the material world around 
us. The mind is enriched from itself. The elements of 
its growth and perfection are not wholly exotic. There 
lies in us a deep, mysterious, infinite love of truth, beauty, 
purity. It is by its own native light that the soul dis- 
cerns what is morally lovely and perfect. But, now, 
amidst all the intuitions of the mind, the inductions of 
reason, the fantastic soarings of imagination, the glowing 
dreams and visions of the human spirit, could there ever 
have been discovered an answer to the question — "What 
must I do to be saved ?" 

Man is guilty. He carries the consciousness of sin 
within him. He feels, too, instinctively, that sin is the 
great, the only real evil; that poverty, pain, disease, 
all other calamities, are not to be compared with wrong 
doing. But what can all the speculations of metaphysics, 
all the exploits of science do to appease the cries of an 
accusing conscience ? The consequences of sin are not 
exhausted in this world. No matter though existence 
be to me only a dreary w r aste, death will open a door of 
escape ; let the springs of life be for me all poisoned, a 
morrow is coming to set me free ; but the misery of sin 
will pursue us into eternity, and be perfected and perpet- 
uated there. After death comes the judgment; and it 
is the certainty of that judgment which lends such ter- 
rible energy to the conscience. How can I meet this 
awful responsibility ? how may I prepare for that dread 
tribunal? I ask the earth, I adjure the skies, I torment 
the depths of nature and of my own unaided thoughts; 
but they give — they can give me no reply. 

Again, man is unholy. Here is another profound and 
pressing want which no researches of reason could ever 
have supplied. Here is an evil not foreign nor accidental, 
but universal and at the very core of our being. Within 
the blight works, and all groan under it. How can this 
painful consciousness be relieved? JN'o enquiry can be 



The Oospel not a Philosophy, but a Revelation. 21 

more intensely important, yet none more completely 
bailies all our thoughts. 

I will only add, that man is alienated from God; and 
until he is reconciled to the source of all light and 
holiness, he must be restless, unsatisfied, forever lost. 
Like the Prodigal, humanity has wandered far away from 
Him who is its only home, the true centre of its life 
and homage. But in all its aberrations it carries a dim 
sense of its original happiness; and turns, with mys- 
terious, and at times yearning memories, to all it has lost. 
Vainly does it "join itself" to earthly objects, and seek 
with these to slake its "thirst for God." Without him, 
the soul will pine and perish with inward, central famine. 
Its capacities, its necessities cry out for God, for the living 
God. And this fact alone is enough to make us feel that 
a revelation was necessary, — this fact, that humanity was 
painfully conscious of its separation from God, that its 
most authentic, earnest longing is for God, and that to 
interpret this phenomenon, and meet this waut, no beam 
of light or hope ever could have dawned upon the unin- 
spired mind of man. 

III. Up to this point, I have been speaking generally 
of the Gospel and its preternatural disclosures; let us 
now come closer to " the things " of which our xipostle 
treats. A glance at one or two of these mysteries of 
godliness, is all which the time allows; but the most 
cursory view will show how infinitely they transcend all 
unaided human — nay, angelic conceptions. It is with 
reference to the scheme of redemption, the masterpiece 
of the divine counsels, God admonishes us so emphat- 
ically, that "his thoughts are not our thoughts, neither 
are his ways our ways," that to receive the Gospel, not 
only must " the wicked forsake his ways," but " the un- 
righteous must forsake his thoughts." And with reason ; 
for the truths unfolded in that Gospel are "things which 
eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered 
into the heart of man." 

Of these " deep things" which God hath revealed unto 
us by his Spirit, let us take, first, the Wisdom displayed 
in the plan of redemption. 

1* 



22 Richard Fuller 's Sermons. 

Look where we will, we behold surpassing wisdom in 
the material creation. What beauty, what variety, what 
order, what fitness of everything to its end. " He hath 
made every thing beautiful in his time." "0 Lord, how 
manifold are thy works, in wisdom hast thou ordained 
them all." So, too, in the machinery of providence, 
what unfathomable skill. Who by searching can find 
out all those pre-adjusted harmonies by which the great- 
est miracles are constantly wrought but by general laws 
so controlling and modifying each other, that no miracle 
is necessary. In a word, how incomprehensible is the 
wisdom of a Being who knows perfectly all the properties 
of matter, all the attributes of spirit; who regulates un- 
counted myriads of worlds, everywhere diffusing hap- 
piness and securing perfect order ; who is the fountain 
of all knowledge and wisdom to angel and archangel, to 
all the hosts of lofty intelligences that crowd the teeming 
universe. 

But wonderful as is this wisdom, it is still only the perfec- 
tion of a genius, some vestiges of which are found in man. 
The wisdom displayed in salvation is unique, peculiar; 
it differs entirely from every thing which the senses or 
the highest intellect could have gathered from the world 
of nature without, or the world of thought within. Not 
a trace of any thing like it ever could have been detected 
in all the eye ever could have seen, or the ear ever could 
have heard, or that ever could have entered into the heart 
of man. Imagination, in its most imperial range, could 
never have anticipated one single feature of such a scheme. 
It is a pure revelation made by "the Spirit of God which 
searcheth the deep things of God," and which has access 
directly to the spirit of man. And not only does no 
glimmer of earthly radiance mingle with this light from 
heaven, but the light is generally obscured by smoke 
when mere earthly fires are brought to shine upon it. 

" The Greeks seek after wisdom," says our Apostle ; 
but to them, "Christ crucified is foolishness.''" Degraded 
as Greece was at the time of Paul's visit, there yet sur- 
vived some of the old enthusiasm for all noble achieve- 
ments in literature and science ; and a highly educated 
inhabitant of Athens or Corinth, had the finest suscepti- 



The Gospel not a Philosophy, but a Revelation. -11 

bility to every form of beauty. To him Nature was a 
mysterious presence in whose charms lie revelled. The 
loveliness so prodigally lavished all around him in that en- 
chanting clime; soft vales of evergreen ; purple summits, 
now clad with the sun, now flecked with glittering snow ; 
sweet sylvan groves ; fields gay with the richest verdure ; 
the blooming tones of such landscapes ; "the strange su- 
perfluous glories" of such an atmosphere; the gorgeous 
dyes of such heavens ; these kindled in his bosom a rapt- 
ure Avhich became a religion. He worshipped the out- 
ward creation; or rather he revered it as a solemn temple 
in which the Kosmos, the spirit of beauty was enshrined. 

Then, too, what witching affluence of imagination had 
been poured upon the glowing canvass by these Greeks ; 
what celestial illuminations were bodied forth in the warm, 
breathing, speaking marble; what calm, clear, earnest, 
deep philosophy was theirs ; what "mild wisdom wedded 
in living union to harmony divine." In letters, art, 
poetic inspiration, polite accomplishments, lofty genius, 
all true eloquence — that eloquence which is logic on fire 
— these men and their ancestors are the masters before 
whom succeeding ages have instinctively and reverently 
bowed. They sought after wisdom and they found it. 
But the wisdom unfolded in the Gospel has no affinity 
with their knowledge. It is as high above human thoughts 
as the heavens are high above the earth. 

To rescue a lost world from the abysses of ruin and to 
reinstate it in holiness and happiness — this, you at once 
feel, was a task for Omniscience infinitely more arduous 
than the creation of a world. For the salvation of a 
single child of Adam, an expedient was necessary of 
which nature could suggest absolutely nothing. The 
invention of the human mind could contrive nothing. The 
guilty must be pardoned and raised to glory; and yet the 
divine government — dishonored by man's re volt — must be 
amply vindicated. Creatures in open rebellion and 
utterly corrupt must be recovered and purified; and yet 
the divine holiness, God's inflexible abhorrence of sin, be 
awfully proclaimed. Here was an emergency which 
must forever have baffled all finite intelligences, and for 
which the Gospel reveals the masterpiece of eternal wisdom, 



24 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

a signal anomaly which provides full salvation for the 
vilest, and, at the same time, not only asserts the honor 
of the divine law, but magnifies that law, sheds new and 
amazing lustre on its august purity and inviolability. 
This is the wisdom of God ; the distinguishing glory of 
the eternal mind, and to this the Apostle expressly 
alludes in the context : " Howbeit we speak wisdom 
among them that are perfect, yet not the wisdom of this 
world, nor of the princes of this world that come to 
nought ; but we speak the wisdom of God in a mystery, even 
the hidden wisdom, which God ordained before the world 
unto our glory ; which none of the princes of this world 
knew; for had they known it they would not have cru- 
cified the Lord of Glory. But as it is written, Eye hath 
not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the 
heart of man the things which God hath prepared for 
them that love him; but God hath revealed them unto us 
by his Spirit." Here is wisdom, "the manifold wisdom 
of God," which principalities and powers in heavenly 
places desire to look into. Our Apostle declares that 
Christ is not only the wisdom of God, but "the power of 
God," and what I have just been saying applies equally 
to this attribute. 

Unthinking men do not perceive the difficulties which 
seemed to render our salvation impossible ; and many 
who profess to receive the Gospel, regard it as a revelation 
in which the divine mercy is the foundation of hope. 
But a devout mind at once perceives that if man be saved, 
it must be by justice as well as by mercy. This, in fact, 
is the great defect of all human systems that they over- 
look God's moral government, and make no reparation to 
the violated majesty of his law. When Dr. Duff asked a 
learned Mohammedan convert, what was the cardinal 
deficiency in the religion of the Koran, and that which 
he felt the Gospel supplied, the answer was full of 
instruction. "Mohammedanism is full of the mercy of 
God. While I had no real consciousness of inward guilt 
as a breaker of God's law, this satisfied me. But when 
I felt myself guilty before God, a transgressor of his law, 
I felt, also, that it was not witli God's mercy, but with 
God's justice I had first to do. How to meet the claims 



The Gospel not a Ph ilosoph y, but a Revel >i Ho n. 25 

of God's justice, Mohammedanism has made no provision, 
but this is the very thing which I have found fully ac- 
complished by the atoning sacrifice of Christ and his 
cross. And, therefore,Christianityis nowthe only adequate 
religion for me a guilty sinner." And this was the ex- 
perience of the Apostle Paul. It is as the most wonderful 
display of power, that his grand mind glories in the 
Gospel. "I am not ashamed of the Gospel of Christ, for 
it is the power of God unto salvation;" power over the 
powerful ; power where all else is powerless ; power 
where, to human reason, omnipotence itself seemed 
impotent. 

We cannot glance at the works of God, nor reflect up- 
on his nature, without being overwhelmed at the thought 
of his almigbtiness. Apply here the train of argument 
which we just now pursued as to his wisdom. Study 
God's omnipotence in the variety, the magniiicence of 
creation ; worlds upon worlds, suns upon suns, systems 
upon systems ; all formed, garnished, peopled with life ; 
and all this by the breath of his nostrils. "He spake 
and it was done, he commanded and it stood fast." And 
this potency is, of course, infinite; for the very idea of a 
creative being comprehends the idea of a being whose 
will is self-efficient, and who can multiply creations at his 
sovereign pleasure. It is self-evident, that he who can 
create a man, can create myriads of men ; and that he 
who can create a man, can create an angel or myriads of 
angels. God has but to will, and on earth, in heaven, in 
hell, over the entire universe, all things are controlled by 
an impulse as direct and irresistible as that communica- 
ted by my will to the nerves by which I thus open and 
shut my hand. 

But, while the mechanism of creation thus attests the 
"thunder of God's power," still it is power which "the 
eye sees, the ear hears, and which enters into the heart 
of man." The power, like the wisdom, manifested in the 
Gospel, is one of those " things" as to which neither ob- 
servation nor science could have given any sort of idea. — 
In the salvation of sinners God achieves what, to human 
judgment and experience, seemed wholly impossible. — 
You may ask, Can any thing be impossible to God ? — 



26 Richard Fuller 's Sermons. 

I answer, Yes. " God cannot lie," he cannot contradict 
himself. 

He is omnipotent when anything is the object of pow- 
er ; but some things are not the objects of power : and in 
redemption things are accomplished which, to finite 
minds, are quite beyond the sphere of any power. " Who 
can bring a clean thing out of an unclean ?" How can 
a guilty creature be delivered, not only from punishment, 
but from guilt — so that be can exclaim, "Who shall lay 
any thing to my charge ?" A criminal may be pardoned ; 
but then he is only absolved from the claims which jus- 
tice had upon him. Here is one covered by sin, who yet 
challenges the law, the judge, the universe, and boldly 
defies any accusation. Nay, this transgressor is not only 
rescued from his guilt, but he is justified ; and — while 
angels veil their faces and "cry, Unclean " — he appears 
before the inspection of Omniscience clothed in a perfect 
righteousness, he stands calm, serene, rejoicing amidst 
the awful splendors of that countenance from which the 
heavens and the earth flee away. 

To human reason, these assertions seem like contradic- 
tions ; we would have pronounced them (the Greeks did 
esteem them) "foolishness." But in the great propitia- 
tory sacrifice, the power of God has gloriously harmon- 
ized these anomalies, and solved the problem by which 
God can be just, and justify the ungodly. " I have glo- 
rified thee upon the earth ! " Ponder the eternity of 
meaning crowded into these few words. Here, upon this 
earth, God had been dishonored ; nor could any created 
being render satisfaction for the insult to infinite majes- 
ty and holiness. On this earth, an amazing reparation is 
made. Here, on the very spot where guilty rebels had 
outraged divine justice, that justice is satisfied, and at 
the same time mercy flows like an ocean for the guiltiest 
rebel. Here is power; "the exceeding greatness of his 
power." " I have glorifi >3 thee upon the earth." By 
man God has been disparaged ; by man God is glorified ; 
by a man — but what a Man ! what a phenomenon ! the 
"Brightness of the Father's glory " eclipsed in poverty, 
sorrow, shame, darkness; the Celestial Beatitude torn by 
cruel anguish ; the Lord of life and glory expiring upon 



The Gospel nota Philosophy, but << Revelation. 27 

a cross, while men and angels look on with amazement 

and tears. 

I might thus speak of the pomp and glory of all the 
divine perfections as disclosed in the Gospel, but I will 
mention only one more. I mean the love of God. It is 
above all, the love of God in Christ Jesus which passeth 
knowledge: which, in tenderness, in intensity, transcend- 
entl v surpasses all that " eye had ever seen or ear heard, 
or had entered into the heart of man." 

It is very common to hear people speak of God's mercy, 
as a truth taught us by nature, but this is a great mis- 
take: nature utters not one syllable as to this great at- 
tribute. In the economy of nature there is, positively, 
no mercy. If a natural law be violated, the penalty is 
enforced with inexorable severity. All around me I be- 
hold proofs of the goodness of God, but they are, at times, 
mingled with tokens which would bewilder and xerrify 
my unassisted reason. If in the green and fruitful earth, 
in the sunshine, in the firmament all fretted with golden 
fires, I see a God who is good; what do I see in the light- 
ning, the tempest, the shipwreck, the earthquake ? If 
in life, health, prosperity, I learn the benevolence of God ; 
what do I learn in disease, famine, death ? in those strokes 
which break the heart, in the pestilence which spreads 
desolation and terror over a whole land? It is only in 
the Sacred Volume, that these enigmas find any explan- 
ation. There, we are assured that " God is love,"' and 
that if there be misery and death, they are the baneful 
effects of sin. 

All this, however, is not what our text declares. The 
love displayed in the Gospel, is mercy to sinners. Of 
this nature gives, cair give no intimation whatever, and 
reason can only form conjectures vague and perplexing. — 
Perish the cold revolting philosophy which excludes God 
from the immediate government of the earth, — the me- 
chanical religion which regards him as an artist who has 
constructed an ingenious piece of machinery, and then 
abandoned it to its own forces. This theory would for- 
ever extinguish all hope of man's recovery. But equally 
false is the romantic religion which strips God of his 
moral attributes; and makes him a weak, poetical, senti- 



28 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

mental deity. " Truth," as well as " Grace," " came by 
Jesus Christ." The Bible is a disclosure of amazing 
mercy ; but a disclosure which causes us to exclaim, 
" There is forgiveness with thee, that thou mayst be 
feared." This revelation of mercy is the great tiling in 
the Gospel, it is the Gospel, the " glad tidings of great 
joy." Salvation by the atonement is not only *' a faith- 
ful saying," but it is " worthy of all acceptation." It is 
so precisely adapted to the wants of the soul, it so com- 
mends itself at once to a mind enlightened by the Holy 
Spirit, that if you can suppose such a mind to have found 
this truth among the records dug up from the ruins of 
some long buried city, though nothing else might be 
discovered as to the history of that perished population, 
this fragment of their faith would render it certain that 
they had received their religion directly from heaven. — 
And yet so strange and wonderful, and immeasurably 
above all which imagination ever took in during her 
widest excursions, is the love of God in Christ Jesus, that, 
now, here, in the meridian of Christian knowledge, the 
natural man receiveth it not, for it is foolishness to him, 
because it is spiritally discerned. 

" God so loved the world, that he gave his only begot- 
ten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not per- 
ish, but have everlasting life." " He spared not his own 
Son, but delivered him up for us all." Enter into these 
truths. What things are these ! What <i style of love is 
this! And when we consider the sins which are all par- 
doned through the immolation of this adorable victim ; 
and the intimacies to which God now welcomes such 
rebels ; and the tender care with which he guards them; 
and the glory to which he will exalt them in eternity, — 
0, my brethren, after this, let us confess that we have 
been mistaken., when we called the most devoted earthly 
attachment by that sacred term ' Love.' No. God alone 
knows what love is. Only in his heart burns this celes- 
tial energy. " Herein is love ; not that we loved God, 
but that he loved us, and sent his Son to be a propitiation 
for our sins." "Herein is love" Yes, fathers, mothers, 
ye Davids, ye Eachels, whose souls yearn over your chil- 
dren; ye who suffer a thousand pangs, when one is in- 



The Gospel not a Philosophy, hit a Ri velation. 20 

flicted upon those so tenderly allied to you ; who would 
woo death, and hug it to your embrace if you could but 
die for those so precious to you ; parents, fathers, mothers, 
after all, you deceive yourselves; you do not love; you do 
not comprehend what love means. God is love. God. 
only can love. And the Gospel is the revelation of this 
love; love which is not a weakness, a blind effeminate at- 
tachment overlooking the guilt of its object; but love 
holy, righteous, uncompromising in its abhorrence of 
sin ; and yet rescuing the lost and ruined by an inter- 
position before which reason is staggered, imagination re- 
coils, and faith can only wonder, admire, weep, rejoice, 
adore. 

IV. Having shown you that the Gospel is not a devel- 
opement of natural religion, but a direct communication 
from God,— a revelation of things as to which nature and 
reason never gave and never could have given any infor- 
mation, I ought now to dwell upon the fact that the treas- 
ures of the Gospel are God's provision for all who love 
him. But lest I weary you, I abridge the matter, and 
simply repeat, with a word of comment, the declaration in 
the text — " Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have 
entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath 
prepared for them that love him", but God hath revealed 
them unto us by his Spirit." 

A preparation made from eternity. Impious is any 
system which represents God as having been surprised 
and defeated by the unexpected entrance of sin into the 
world. God's purposes cannot be of recent date. Xothing 
is plainer in Keveiation than that the Gospel is " the hid- 
den wisdom, which God ordained before the world unto 
our glory ;" and that, by the redemption which is in Je- 
sus, even the existence of moral evil— that dark mystery 
— is overruled, so as toreflect amazing splendor upon all 
the divine perfections and at the same time to exalt those 
who are saved from among men to an immortality of sur- 
passing blessedness and glory. This is a truth at which, 
as the text intimates, human pride and reason will cavil; 
but which will cause the devout mind to exclaim, '"Touch- 
ing the Almighty we cannot find him out ; his judgments 



30 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

are a great deep ; he doeth great things and unsearchable, 
marvellous things without number. How unsearchable 
are his judgments and his ways past rinding out." 

A preparation most abundant. Our Apostle declares 
that it is "exceeding abundant;" "the exceeding riches 
of his grace and kindness towards us through Christ Je- 
sus." It is compared not only to a feast supplying all 
our wants, but to a royal banquet, the magnificence and 
munificence of which dazzle the eye, and mock to scorn 
the highest anticipations of the beggars who are the 
guests. When, my friends, when will man believe God, 
and know that "all things are now ready ?" When will 
Christians believe the Bible, and have done with all 
thought of merit, and know that we are complete in 
Christ " who of God is made to us wisdom, and righteous- 
ness, and sanctitication, and redemption." 

A preparation offered freely to all. For whom hath 
God provided the blessings of the Gospel? For the 
learned? the moral? the righteous? No, but for those 
"who love him." If you hate God, if you prefer sin to 
the riches he offers you, vainly do I plead with you. — 
Without love, you can have no relish for the "things 
prepared ;" and if admitted to the marriage supper of 
the saints in heaven, there would be nothing in all that 
festival of purity and love to regale one taste or appetite 
of your soul. But if you love God, if the love of Christ 
draws you to him, these "'things" are prepared for you ; 
they are suited to your wants ; they are yours to enjoy 
freely now and forever. Why are you a stranger, an ex- 
ile, not at home in your own Father's house ? Why are 
you not now rejoicing with the best ring on your finger, 
your rags exchanged for the best robe, your hunger feed- 
ing upon the richest dainties, and earth and heaven ex- 
ulting over your return ? 

I will only add that, as this preparation is from eter- 
nity, so it is for eternity. This is the great concern to 
an immortal being. With what contempt does Jesus re- 
gard the body, the whole world, when compared with 
the soul's redemption. It is the future that makes n an 
noble. Yonder J shall be great, mingling — myself their 
peer — with glorious kings and resplendent immortals. — 



Tlie Gospel not a Philosophy, but a Revelation. 31 

The soul alone 1ms real grandeur. The inevitable mo- 
mentous crisis approaches, when we must surrender all 
that is mortal. It is the immortal principle, which is 
the real man, which will then pass into a life of amazing 
intensity and activity. Beings situated as we are ought 
habitually to feel that they have much more to do with 
eternity than with time, with heaven than with earth. — 
And fur that eternity, that heaven, what glorious prospects 
are unveiled by the Gospel. For those who love him, 
God hath prepared things so ravishing that inspiration 
exhausts all language, all imagery, when seeking to con- 
vey to our faith some glimpses of " what we shall be." — 
Paul was caught up into the third heaven ; his eye saw, 
his ear heard the extasies of the redeemed; his heart took 
in some conceptions of those beatific raptures. But when 
he returns to earth, and we gather around him and ask 
him to tell us something of that state towards which all 
our thoughts, prayers, aspirations, longings, so earnestly 
tend, he disappoints us, he puts his finger upon his lips, 
he declares that " it is not lawful " (not possible with our 
material organization) to describe such things. He only 
exclaims in a sort of sacred, inexplicable rhapsody, "Glo- 
ry." "Exceeding gloiy." " More exceeding glory." "Far 
more exceeding glory." " Far more exceeding and eter- 
nal glory." " Far more exceeding and eternal weight of 
glory !" 

And while God hath prepared such things for them 
that love him, lie is preparing those who love him for 
these things. The whole of a Christian's life is an edu- 
cation for heaven. Reason, experience, flesh and blood, 
will mutiny at things ^vhich God prescribes as parts of 
this necessary discipline; but love can comprehend what 
love does , or it can trust where it cannot trace. Hence 
it is said, "We know that all things work together for 
good to them that love God." We do not see that all 
things work together for our good, but we know it; know 
it because we love God ; because our love to God is only 
a repercussion of the love wherewith "he first loved us;" 
because "every one thatloveth is born of God, and know- 
ethGod;" because as the text . intimates, the hidden 
things of God are understood only by those who love 



32 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 



him; because, with an inspiration deeper than that of 
prophets, with a vision more gifted than that of seers, 
love, sweet confiding, luminous love knows how to in- 
terpret all the mysteries of faith, all the obscurities of 
providence, and in all thankfully to acknowledge the 
wisdom and love of a Father who is making us " meet 
for the inheritance of the saints in light. 



,v 



ft 



& J 



In conclusion, let me again remind you that the Gos- 
pel is not a system of philosophy or morality or theology 
submitted to our judgments, but a religion, " the testi- 
mony of God," addressed to onr faith. And now, can 
anything be more preposterous than the objections we 
sometimes hear to the mysteries of such a revelation ? — 
I at once admit that no evidence could prove a religion 
to come from God, if it contained contradictions ; but 
there is no contradiction in any doctrine of the Bible. — 
Nay, it is folly in us to pretend that we can detect such 
contradictions, for this supposes that we fully comprehend 
the divine mind and essence. There is no truth in the 
natural world which does not involve mysteries ; and if na- 
ture reserves much, if she has secrets she will not yield to 
our most earnest importunities, can we expect religion to 
reveal all her mysteries at once ? The truths of the Gos- 
pel are clearly announced. To demand that nothing shall 
be withheld, is to forget that " secret things belong unto 
the Lord ;" and that " it is the glory of God to conceal a 
thing;" it is to pretend that we have claims upon Jeho- 
vah which he is bound to satisfy; it is, in short, to ne- 
glect plain duty, and ruin ourselves forever, because God 
will not do for us more than he has done for unfallen 
angels — because he will not perform what is absolutely 
impossible. 

Have done with this folly and impiety, my dear friend, 
The Gospel is good news ; rejoice in these glad tidings 
of great joy ; adore the riches of mercy which are this 
day unfolded to you. " The things which are revealed 
belong to you." God hath prepared them for those that 
love him. One day we shall pass to an economy of light. 
Now we "know in part, we prophesy in part;" but let 
us not love in part. In heaven we shall be "saints in 
light ;" here we are to be saints in love. Instead of 



The, Gospel not a Philosophy, but a Revelation, 33 

wasting the few hours of life which are left us in vain 
discussions, let us love God, let us consecrate our hearts 
to such a Redeemer. This is religion — " Though I un- 
derstand all mysteries and all knowledge, and have not 
love, I am nothing." This is peace, happiness, the assur- 
ance and foretaste of heaven. This comes from God and 
must conduct to him. 

Christians, my belovedbrethren,what emotions ought not 
this subject to awaken in your bosoms. The opening of 
the seventh seal caused silence in heaven for half an hour; 
the loosing the seals of the Gospel has broken the silence 
that brooded over eternity. To others our theme may be 
invested with no charms; but to you it is full of unspeak- 
able sublimity and glory. The preaching of the Cross 
is to them that perish foolishness, but unto us which are 
saved it is the power of God. You know that faith is 
something more than the conviction of the intellect; that 
until love opens our eyes, the things of the Gospel are 
hidden from us ; that it is love which comprehends, feels, 
rejoices in the unsearchable riches of Christ. 

Let me beseech you to make these things the subject 
of adoring study and meditation. Can there be a more 
substantial mortification than this, that we are constant- 
ly reading the Bible, and yet know so little of the won- 
ders of redemption ? These pages are called "Oracles," 
because they are a direct revelation of God's mind; "liv- 
ing oracles" because they breathe life into the soul. "The 
words that I speak unto you," said Jesus, " they are spirit 
and they are life." Supplicate earnestly the light of that 
Spirit who reveals these things unto us — that he may 
"receive of the things of Christ and show them unto 
you." Make the prayer of the Psalmist yours, "Open 
thou mine eyes that 1 may behold wondrous things out 
of thy law!" 

And seek to grow in love, to be made perfect in love. 
It is to love that God reveals himself; for love alone can 
comprehend love ; and God is love. It is by love that 
the spiritual eye is couched to discern the truths of the 
Gospel. It is love which initiates us into the mysteries 
of the C.'oss. He who knows not this is in great dark- 
ness; the highest truth has not dawned upon bim. No 



34 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

earthly illumination could cause the fabled statue to give 
out its strange, glorious music; it was mute until beams 
fell upon it from the sun himself. And before the soul 
can sing the New Song, its eternal harmonies must be 
awakened by the touch of celestial love. Love, sincere, 
meek, humble, obedient love gives not only heat, but 
light. A simple, loving, tender heart has ever a clear 
eye; it is endowed with a sympathy, an intuition surer 
than all the deductions of the intellect. Such a heart 
the Holy Spirit delights to lead into the innermost shrine 
of truth, into the holiest of holies ; and there to reveal to 
it the secret of the Lord ; to pour into it light which is 
felt to be light from heaven ; so to unveil the majesty, 
the glory, the sweetness of the Gospel that the soul runs 
over with its fullness. 

My beloved hearers, may we know this love, this lu- 
minous all revealing love; and may it enrich us with 
these unspeakable blessings. "And this I pray that, 
your love may abound yet more and more in knowledge 
and in all judgment." "Wherefore I also after I heard of 
your faith in the Lord Jesus, and love unto all the saints, 
cease not to give thanks for you, making mention of you 
in my prayers ; that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, 
the Father of glory, may give unto you the spirit of wis- 
dom and revelation in the knowledge of him ; the eyes 
of your understanding being enlightened that ye may 
know what is the hope of his calling, and what the riches 
of the glory of his inheritance in the saints, and what is 
the exceeding greatness of his power toward us who be- 
lieve according to the working of his mighty power.'' 

What noble, what heaven-inspired petitions are these! 
God grant that we may experience their fulfilment in our 
own souls. To him be glory and dominion, forever and 
ever. Amen. 



The Star of Bethlehem. 35 



THE STAR OF BETHLEHEM. 

"And lo, the star which they saw in the East went before them, till it 
came and stood over where the young child was."— Matt. 2: 9. 

AX 7" II AT a profound mystery is the Incarnation. — 
V V "Without controversy great is the mystery of god- 
liness ; God was manifest in the flesh." And the tem- 
per that becomes us with reference to this amazing phe- 
nomenon is, not vain curiosity, but the adoring reverence 
which turns aside to behold this great sight, and to wor- 
ship "Emmanuel, God Avith us." He would be an idiot 
who to aid the sun by day or to supply his place by night, 
— should hold a candle over a dial. Greater, if possi- 
ble, is the folly which, upon such a subject, seeks to em- 
ploy human reason any farther than we have the light 
of revelation. 

The star in the East was an emblem of that Gospel 
which, coming from heaven, is "a light shining in a dark 
place" to guide us to the Redeemer of our souls. The 
treatment which the Gospel receives is strikingly illus- 
trated by the conduct of Herod, the priests, and the Magi ; 
and it is this last thought which shall engage our atten- 
tion to day. First, however, let us glance at the narra- 
tive itself. 

I. The narrative. "Through the tender mercy of our 
God the dayspring from on high hath visited us, to give 
light to them that sit in darkness and in the shadow of 
death, to guide our feet into the May of peace." Such 
Mas the sublime epiphany at Bethlehem; and to two very 
different classes this wonderful birth is miraculously re- 
vealed; to the shepherds by an angel; while for the Magi 
a star is the appointed missionary. We have now to do 



36 Richard Fuller s Sermons. 

with the latter manifestation; and some enquiries natur- 
ally arise, in reference to this brilliant light and these 
oriental pilgrims. 

As to the star, the evangelist furnishes no sort of 
explanation; he simply relates the event. Aluminous 
body attracts the attention of these scientific men. God, 
who has direct control over all minds, reveals to them the 
glorious fact, that it is the herald of the Messiah who was 
"the Desire of all nations;" and they are at once obedi- 
ent to the heavenly vision, and follow this extraordinary 
guide until it stops and pours its lustre upon the lowly 
shed. 

These venerable sages do not speculate, they obey ; 
but learned astronomers have wished to be wise above 
what is written, and to explain this sidereal phenomenon. 
One of them discovers that, about the time of the imperial 
birth, there was a remarkable conjunction of three large 
planets, whose combined light must have shone with 
wonderful effulgence. Another compares this star to a 
strange, temporary orb which visited the heavens in the 
year fifteen hundred and seventy-two, burning with sifch 
brilliancy that it was visible by day as well as by night, 
and after some months disappearing entirely. A third 
apprehends that the star was a comet. A fourth — but I 
will not waste your time with these idle, though learned 
conjectures. Attempts to find natural explanations for 
facts which the sacred writers state as miracles, may be 
well intended and have an appearance of piety ; in truth, 
however, they betray a lurking spirit of scepticism. Or, 
if not in the direction of infidelity, such speculations 
mistake the very meaning of a revelation, which is given 
to teach us salvation, and not to divert our minds into 
fields of scientific study. Even in the department of 
nature, true philosophy will bring the mind back from 
its vain researches to much of the simplicity of the peas- 
ant who takes things as they are, without seeking to 
penetrate to their hidden sources; but in receiving a 
revelation from God, the very first temper required is the 
docility of children. 

Men and brethren, reason exercises one of her no- 
blest powers when she determines her own limits, and 



The Star of Bethlehem. 37 



submits to a revelation coining from heaven. But this 
truth, however self-evident, is often overlooked. To any 
humble, candid man it is plain, that when the Saviour 
was upon earth, evil spirits were permitted to exert great 
power, that they might he openly condemned and defeat- 
ed. Science, however, — while professing great reverence 
for the Scriptures— has wished to regard these demoniacal 
possessions as nothing more than diseases. So as to the 
star mentioned in our text ; why seek any astronomical 
solution of a phenomenon plainly miraculous? It was mani- 
festly an orb of light created for the purpose; moving not 
far away among the heavenly bodies, but in the atmos- 
phere of our earth; conducting the Magians first to Pal- 
estine, then to Jerusalem, then changing its course and 
leading them to Bethlehem, where it paused and hung 
directly over the destined house. The fiery pillar which 
heralded Israel through the wilderness to the promised 
land indicated to that vast multitude what course they 
should pursue, when they should rest, and when resume 
their journey ; and such was the office of the mysterious 
luminary which beckoned on these distinguished for- 
eigners. 

So much as to the Star. Now for the Magi. The 
term means men of science. It is almost certain that 
these men were sages among the Persians; adherents of 
the Zoroasterian worship in which light was adored; and 
that they shared in the expectations, then diffused through 
the East, of a great king and saviour who should be the 
light of the world. But here, again, let us not indulge 
in useless disquisitions. Once introduce fancy into reli- 
gion, and there will be no end of fictions. Men say they 
consecrate their imaginations to piety. It reminds me of 
the Jews, who devoted their ornaments to God, but made 
a golden calf out of them. Nor are ministers only to be 
blamed for the fantastical conceits which too often dis- 
grace the pulpit; they are influenced by a low taste among 
the people for these extravagancies. It was not the priest 
who first degraded the religion of heaven into idolatry. — 
When condemned for making the golden calf, Aaron's 
plea was, that he complied with the popular voice. 

The foolish traditions of Rome as to these Magi are 
2 



38 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

fables suited only to the nursery. That they were mon- 
archs, the kings of Tarshish and Sbeba and Seba, who, it 
had been prophesied, should ''offer gifts;" how they 
were baptized in the river Jordan; how they returned 
home and published the Gospel; and how, after their 
deaths, the city of Cologne received their remains; — these, 
and similar figments, are gravely recorded in the annals 
of superstition; but they are wholly unworthy of your at- 
tention. AH we know is, that a deputation of wise men 
from the East visited Jerusalem under supernatural guid- 
ance. Baalam had foretold that there should "come a 
Star out of Jacob and a sceptre out of Israel;" and influ- 
enced, either by some knowledge of prophecy which must 
have been widely diffused by the Jewish captives, or, as 
is most probable, by direct inspiration, these venerable 
patriarchs leave their homes and undertake a long and 
perilous journey. For Ezra, with his companions, was 
four months in reaching Jerusalem from Persia; and the 
road, passing .through Assyria, Mesopotamia, and Syria, 
would traverse toilsome mountains, vast parched plains, 
and dreary wildernesses. 

Such, then, is the sacred narrative; and let us not turn 
from it without a reflection or two suggested by this his- 
tory. I have adopted the common and, I believe, the 
correct opinion, that these Magi were men devoted to the 
study of the starry firmament. So absorbing is this sci- 
ence, that Anaxagoras became wholly dead to all earthly 
things; and, when asked, if he had no love for his country, 
pointed upwards and said, "There is my country." — 
Moreover, in all ages superstition has invested these roll- 
ing splendors with some inscrutable potency over human 
affairs. And we need not be surprised at this. With- 
out one of these bodies — the sun — our earth would be 
shrouded in night, the air would stagnate, vegetation 
would cease, and human life perish. Why, then, the ne- 
cromancer asks, may not all these orbs of living fire dis- 
pense some charm tor good or evil as they wheel their 
mystic rounds ? 

Physical astronomy easily degenerated into a compli- 
cated system of judicial astrology. The fiery cope of 
heaven was regarded as a scroll written all over with 



The Star of Bethlehem. 39 



flaming hieroglyphics and burning revelations of the fu- 
ture. Nor is it improbable that this belief had taken 
strong hold upon the minds of these learned orientals. 

But I am wandering from the subject. These Magi 
were astronomers; and now see how God is wont, 
mercifully, to meet meu in their pursuits; and not only 

to honor their industry — as in the case of the "shepherds 
abiding in the fields, keeping watch over their flocks by 
night" — hut to employ their vocations as vehicles of spir- 
itual instruction. David, tending his fold, is prepared 
and chosen to be a shepherd of Israel. The Samaritan 
woman, while drawing at the well, is reminded of "living 
water." The Apostles by their lines and nets are taught 
how to become " fishers of men." And these Magians 
are drawn by the science most familiar to their minds. 

Observe, again, from this narrative, that the Gospel is 
for "every creature," that it recognizes no distinctions, 
either national or social, among men. The shepherds 
were Jews, the Magi were Gentiles. "In thee, and in 
thy Seed, shall all the families of the earth be blessed.*' 
'•'And men shall be blessed in him, all nations shall call 
him blessed." "To him shall the gathering of the people 
be." The shepherds were humble and illiterate men; 
the Magi were men of exalted position and profound learn- 
ing. Both classes, however, kneel reverently before the 
incarnate Redeemer. If there be any distinguishing 
honor conferred, it is upon the lowly shepherds, for to 
them this glorious revelation is first made, and — while a 
star is the apostle for the noble men of science — an angel 
from heaven kindles their souls with this wonderful 
message. 

Above all, let this recital teach us the mingled dignity 
and meekness of the Saviour. Here is glorv such as no 
mortal ever received or can receive. This is no common 
monarch who is born: for in Herod's dominion. and as if 
the reign of that prince was wholly eclipsed, the wise 
men enquire for "the king of the Jews." To usher them 
to t'ne abode of this august sovereign, a new star is cre- 
ated: an orb more glorious in its ministry than all the 
spheres which sweep the firmament in planetary pomp 
and solemnity. Nor do they enter that presence only to 
render courtly homage; they come to -worship him." 



40 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

And well may they adore, and pour their treasures be- 
fore that imperial child; for soon all the heavenly host 
will fall at his feet, casting their crowns there and crying, 
"Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive power and 
riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honor, and glory, 
and blessing." But, while such is his majesty; while 
the skies are strangely illuminated; while from near and 
from afar worshippers bow low in wonder and love; while 
angels leave their bright abodes and gaze, and exult, and 
from heavenly lyres shed heavenly music upon the listen- 
ing ear of night; — with all this retinue of kingly state 
and divine glory — where do we find this illustrious visit- 
ant? Come see the place where he lies. 

In the meanest village of Judea, in the meanest 
habitation of that village, in the meanest shed attached 
to that habitation, — there this regal guest firstappears. — 
And the meekness and lowliness incarnate in that rude 
cradle unfolded themselves in all his future life. "In 
him dwelt all the fullness of the Godhead" — a fullness of 
pardon and strength and peace and life, to satisfy the 
cravings of every weary, heavy laden soul; and he invited 
all to share these exhaustless treasures. But it was be- 
cause he was "meek and lowly in heart," that he bade 
them come and find rest to their souls. 

II. From the narrative I pass now, to our principal 
topic; marking the different conduct of those who wit- 
nessed this wonderful phenomenon, and the faithful rep- 
resentation we find in their conduct of the treatment 
which the truth now receives from those whom it seeks 
to enlighten and save. Follow me carefully in this ex- 
amination. 

I am to speak of the entertainment which the truth 
receives from different sorts of people: and 1 begin with 
the most odious class — that represented by Herod. 

This king was called Herod the Great; and ought it 
not to cure us of th.it low ambition which seeks honor 
from men," when we find such a monster thus exalted? 
He was now in the thirty-fifth year of his reign. He 
was not a Jew but an Edomite, and had no legitimate ti- 
tle to the throne. \\\ the midst of that wealth and splen- 



The Star of Bethlehem. 41 

dor which he had usurped, a deputation of venerable 
emirs visit Ids capital; and observe what is the object of 
this imposing embassy. They enquire "Where ishe that 
is born king of the Jews ? for we have seen Ins star in the 
East, and are come to worship him." A hereditary mon- 
arch; a lineal heir to the throne of David; a rival •won- 
derfully announced by heaven and thus openly pro- 
claimed; — the tyrant is filled with rage; and you recol- 
lect his duplicity, perfidiousness, unrelenting cruelty ; 
I need not go into the history. I mention him only be- 
cause the truth now too often meets with the same tem- 
per which rankled in the bosom of this unscrupulous and 
ferocious despot. 

So captivating is the very name by which this incar- 
nation of love is introduced to our world; such charms 
invest that word "Jesus;" so touching, subduing, divinely 
endearing is the mission of him who stooped to seek and 
to save those who were lost; that we would expect all to 
welcome with adoring rapture "the glad tidings of great 
joy." But as the very approach of the glorious deliverer 
awakened the bitter hostility of Herod, so now, the pas- 
sions—those usurpers of God's throne in the heart — rise 
up against the truth; and we find in too many of those 
whom the Gospel addresses, the very same enmity which 
glowed in the soul of that relentless persecutor. 

Several things are recorded of Herod. He stirred up 
the whole city against the truth which had been revealed. 
He consulted the priests, but it was only that he might 
gratify bis evil passions. He even professed a desire to 
worship the marvellous child; and, flattering the Magi, 
requested them to inform him as soon as they had discov- 
ered the birthplace; but his pretensions were false, his 
purposes selfish and inhuman. In tine, when baffled in 
his scheme, he betrayed his real character by that horri- 
ble massacre, which at a stroke swept the nurseries of 
their sweetest treasures. And, though disguised, the 
same temper still lurks in the carnal mind; the same an- 
imosity to the truth; and all this under a professed rev- 
erence for Jesus and his religion. Nor — if unrestrained 
by law — would this spirit now hesitate about those deeds 
of blood by which persecution has always sought to ac- 
complish its victories. 



42 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

It is remarkable that the very first promise of a Saviour 
announced this enmity to that glorious child who should 
be born of a woman. "I will put enmity between thy 
seed and her seed." And, at an early period of his min- 
istry, Jesus admonished his disciples against any illusion 
as to this matter. "Think not that 1 am come to send 
peace on earth. I am come not to send peace, but a 
sword." 

On the night of that amazing birth at Bethlehem, the 
"Prince of Peace" entered our world; and cherub and 
seraph hailed the dawn of an empire in which hatred 
should cease and love forever reign. "And suddenly 
there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly 
host, praising God, and saying, Glory to God in the 
highest, and on earth peace, goodwill toward men." But 
in Herod's breast this event at once inflames the fiercest 
hostility. And just so now. In itself — in its maxims, 
precepts, promises, spirit, influence — the Gospel breathes 
peace ; and were it received universally, the whole world 
would be filled with peace and happiness. But in the 
depraved hearts of men it encounters only a lodged and 
rooted hatred. 

Truth, spiritual truth as revealed by Jesus and in Je- 
sus, who can estimate its value? It is the real treasure 
of the mind, the true joy of the heart; it fills the con- 
science with heavenly tranquility, and elevates the soul 
above all the follies and falsehoods of the world. Truth 
is so distinctively the characteristic, the very essence of 
Christ's religion, that he declares he came to "bear wit- 
ness to the truth." To be a Christian, a man must post- 
pone all other questions, and first ask, "What is truth ?" 
For unless this enquiry be made first, it will never be 
honestly made at all. 

And a Christian is bound not only to believe what he 
professes, but to profess and maintain mid teach what he 
believes. Hence the enmity he will experience. "Be- 
hold this child is set for a sign which shall be spoken 
against, that the thoughts of many hearts may be re- 
vealed." The religion of Jesus will be hated; because it 
pierces the secrets of men's hearts, disturbs t heir security, 
— assailingthe usurpations of custom, of honored example, 



The Star of Bethlehem. 43 

of old hereditary sanctities — compelling men to prove all 
things, to examine for themselves the foundations upon 
which they have been resting, — and thus arrays against 
each other those who were formerly bound by the ties of 
authority or kindred. 

"What is the first quality you desire in a friend? What? 
yon reply; why sincerity, of course. He only is my 
friend, who is candid in all things, especially in those 
things which affect my soul and my salvation. Truth is 
of such infinite value, that he is my enemy who conceals 
it; he alone loves me who tells me the truth plainly and 
faithfully. Now, all this sounds very well, and yon be- 
lieve yourself in all this; but if your friend should take 
you at your word, how long would your intimacy with 
him continue? No, what we desire in a friend is not 
candor, it is flattery. The Galatians received Paul as an 
"angel of God," "would have plucked out their eyes and 
have given them to him;" but they could not endure his 
fidelity; and Ave hear him saying, "Am I therefore be- 
come your enemy because I tell yon the truth?" Nor 
has it ever been, nor will it ever be otherwise in the pro- 
pagation of the Gospel. How large a portion of the ar- 
chives of our earth is a record of persecution levelled 
against the truths of the Bible. Hostility to Jesus and 
his precepts glares upon us from every side, whether we 
consider the annals of the past, or the "history now enact- 
ing before our eyes. Tyrants fulminating vengeance 
against their subjects, priests persecuting the people with 
unrelenting malignity, even children arrayed against 
their parents, and parents against their children — such 
divisions the Gospel will produce when fearlessly 
preached. And let us, my brethren, never forget a truth 
predicted by the Redeemer, and exemplified in the expe- 
rience of the faithful in all ages. Let us remember that 
wherever placed, whatever be our condition, loyalty to 
Jesus is impossible unless, for his sake, we are ready to 
endure painful alienations, to feel perhaps under the vel- 
vet, the cruel steel severing ties which have long been 
most dear to our hearts. 

You — you sit, Sabbath after Sabbath under the min- 
istrv of the word. Remember that the commission of the 



44. Richard Fuller s Sermons. 

man of God is not to please you but to save you. When, 
then, he plainly reproves your sins, do not regard him 
with resentment — as Ahab regarded Elijah — and Herod 
John the Baptist — but listen to his faithful admonitions 
in the spirit in which David received the reproofs, severe 
but salutary, of the prophet whose v<rice restored to him 
the joys of salvation. The Pharisees persecuted Jesus 
and his Apostles, but garnished sepulchres in honor of 
the prophets whom their fathers had slain for the truth. 
Guard against this delusion. You admire the courage of 
those preachers who braved the rack and scaffold in other 
days; reverence, then, the same fidelity when it now for- 
feits your favor and incurs your displeasure, that it may 
rescue you from perdition. 

You — you mingle and have influence in society, the 
society of the rich, worldly, proud, where the only fash- 
ion that passeth not away is the fashion of being damned, 
where the secret universal compact is, that each shall let 
the other go to hell as quietly and comfortably and grace- 
fully as possible. To violate this mutual engagement, 
to utter a word disapproving of this contract, is to be a 
troublesome fellow, it shews an entire want of all good- 
breeding. Form no part of this fatal communion. En- 
ter not into this inhuman, barbarous compact. As a 
Christian you must exert, you are exerting, some influ- 
ence; let it be openly, distinctly, unreservedly for Christ 
and his truth. Otherwise, you not only wrong your own 
soul; but those whom you now seek to please must in 
their hearts despise you, and on their deathbeds, and in 
eternity, they will justly heap curses upon you for your 
cruel faithlessness. 

Above all, the family. You are a member of a family 
in which the spirit of the world reigns, or in which re- 
ligious prejudice and error have long been consecrated 
heirlooms. If you are true to truth, to your own con- 
science, and the souls of those whom you love, you will 
meet unkindness which Jesus says shall pierce you like 
iron entering your soul, you will bitterly experience the 
fulfillment of that prophetic warning, "I am not come to 
send peace but a sword; lor 1 am come to set a man at 
variance against his father, and the daughter against her 



The Slny of Bethlehem. r> 



mother, and the daughter id law against the mother in 
law, and a man's foes shall be they of his own household." 

Shrink not, however from your solemn duty. Speak 
in love, but speak the truth, as God shall furnish auspi- 
cious moments to you. All hearts are in his hands, lie 
will overrule all things, and you shall yet see those who 
at first wounded you as with a sword, blessing you and 
glorifying God in you lor a devotion so strong, so true, 
so willing to sutler wrong that their souls might be en- 
lightened and guided in the way of salvation. 

Herod — those who hate and persecute the truth. — 
This is the firsl class who are marked in the history be- 
fore us. The second class is composed of those who do 
not indeed persecute the truth, but it is only because 
they treat it with perfect indifference, if not with con- 
tempt. These find their type in the priests, and 1 now 
turn to them. 

How infatuated, indeed, how incredible, my brethren, 
was the conduct of these men. For just consider, in the 
first place, the question which is agitating the public 
mind. Has the Messiah really come? Prophecies have 
foretold that about this period "a virgin shall conceive 
and bring forth a son whose name shall be Emmanuel, 
Wonderful, Counsellor, Mighty God;" — has this mag- 
nificent prediction been accomplished? All the religion, 
all the glory, all the hopes of the nation and of these men 
are involved in this momentous enquiry. 

In the next place, think what light these dignitaries 
possessed. They did not belong to the ignorant masses. 
They were the appointed guardians and interpreters of 
the Sacred Oracles; and they were familiar with the pre- 
dictions which assured Israel that the glorious Messiah 
should appear at this time. When Herod inquired of 
them, they at once repeated the language of the inspired 
books, declaring that Bethlehem would be the birthplace 
of the regal offspring of David. 

In line, the admonitions on every side that the "full- 
ness of the time had con e,"' that the majestic epiphany 
was at hand — reflect upon these; till the prophecies con- 
verging to the present year; the universal expectation of 
the nation; the vision of Zachariah, a priest, one of them- 



46 Richard Fuller s Sermons. 



selves, proclaiming the immediate advent of the august 
Deliverer of Israel; the presence of these noble pilgrims, 
and the mysterious lamp which guided them on their 
way; — enter into these thoughts, combine them; are you 
not astonished at the indifference of these priests ? What 
strange folly and stupidity theirs not to hasten at once to 
Bethlehem, not to solve immediately this great problem, 
nor to be wholly absorbed in a question so deeply inter- 
esting. Instead of this, they see the Magi and hear their 
wonderful report, they answer the enquiries of Herod, 
and then dismiss the whole matter. How infatuated this 
apathy. What sort of people could they have been? — 
Cease your astonishment. These scribes and priests were 
a sort of people very common at that day, and very com- 
mon now. They were the same sort of people who live 
in this age; who live in this city; whom you meet every 
day in your streets, in your marts, on change, in the so- 
cial and domestic circle. They were the same sort of 
people who frequent our churches on the Sabbath; who 
have come into this house this morning; who are now 
looking me in the face, and affecting such surprise at 
conduct which seems to them almost incredible in others, 
but which they every day imitate. 

Yes, my friends, the practical indifference of these Jews 
may well astonish you, but yours amazes me still more. 
The question as to their Shiloh was of vast importance to 
these enlightened Hebrews; but think of the inquiries 
which are every day pressing upon our minds and solicit- 
ing our attention. Is it indeed a faithful saying and 
worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus has come in- 
to the world to save sinners? Am I every hour exposed 
to eternal punishment, and is salvation possible to me? 
How may I obtain an interest in this great salvation? 
What must 1 do to be saved? How am 1 to prepare to 
meet my God, to welcome death, to stand accepted at the 
judgment, to secure an immortality of blessedness and 
glory? What questions these; yet, day after day, week 
after week, month after month, year after year, yon treat 
them with utter unconcern. You have time and a heart 
for everything else, but nothing — no warnings, no en- 
treaties, no mercies, no judgments, no tears of Jesus who 



The Star of Bethlehem. 47 

weeps over you, of your pastor who has often wepl and 
now weeps over you — no motives from earth or hell or 
heaven — can fix your attention upon these solemn and 
stupendous truths. These priests had the inspired vol- 
ume, and were admonished of the amazing phenomenon. 
Well, from your very infancy the light has been all 
around you and within you; the knowledge they could 
gather was ignorance compared with that which from 
the cradle has been mercifully lodged in your mind. 
After this how can you pretend to be surprised at their 
conduct? And do not pass this - remark hastily, for it 
deserves your most careful consideration. 

Had I time, I would speak of that want of zeal for the 
truth which causes so many professed Christians to re- 
semble these priests, who utter indeed a few pious words, 
but, for fear of offending Herod, practice a most unwor- 
thy and perfidious silence, — thus betraying the cause 
confided to them. 

It is not, however, to the reserves and compromises of 
the church that I now refer, but to the apathy we see 
everywhere in the world. We constantly hear sneers 
cast upon the disciples of Jesus for their "Isms/' but 
our cavillers ought to know that no "Ism" is half so 
bigoted and deplorable as their Indifferent ism. It is one 
of the most obstinate, besotted, fatal forms of sectarian- 
ism and fanaticism. It is far more hopeless than 
any heresy, nay, than infidelity itself. He who errs may 
be enlightened. He who sincerely rejects Christianity, 
believing it to be false, may be convinced by the mass of 
testimony easily furnished. But he who treats a revela- 
tion from God with cool habitual indifference, betrays a 
temper most insidious and incurable. Where one is lost 
through vice or open resistance to the truth, thousands 
perish through this guilty negligence. iS'or is it any- 
thing but absurdity to attempt a justification of this 
conduct, by pleading the unhappy strifes and schisms 
which afflict the Gospel. Because there are different roads, 
will a man lie down and die, rather than enquire the 
right path? Because a field yields thorns and brambles, 
will a farmer condemn it to utter sterility ? In religion, 
as in all things, men will differ; and these dissensions 



48 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

are too often urged with violence and even fierceness, so 
that controversy has become a contaminated phrase. This 
you condemn, and the Gospel condemns; but, after all, 
do men thus contend about trifles ? These angry and 
sinful disputes admonish you to cease from man — to search 
the Scriptures for yourself; but they also warn you of 
the vast importance of religion, and of the unspeakable 
folly which can look with indifference upon the only 
subject really worthy of an immortal being. 

The last class comprises those who love the truth, 
honor the truth, rejoice in the guidance of the truth. 
For them the Star of Bethlehem is a peerless orb ; it has 
no fellow in the firmament. To these I now gladly 
turn ; and they, in all the characteristics of real pity, 
find their exact archetype in those noble missionaries of 
the East. 

Observe the sincerity and earnestness of these Magi. 
Vainly for many does the truth shine with clearest 
lustre ; their eyes are closed, or, if opened, it is only 
that they may be shut again, and exclude the unwelcome 
light; they are not in earnest and sincere; vain reason- 
ings, an unwillingness to be convinced, a dread of the 
self-denials which obedience will demand, cause them to 
love darkness rather than light. If we seek a knowledge 
of our duty, we shall surely find it; but there is another 
thing which most men seek and as certainly find ; it is 
an excuse for the error which they love. Sechele, an 
African chief, having been converted, at once renounced 
polygamy. When Dr. Livingstone visited another chief, 
he was hospitably received; presents of ivory and cattle 
were offered him. As soon, however, as he declared that 
his object was to make Christians, the chief refused to 
hear him. " No," he said, " I do not want to learn 
from that book; I fear it will change my heart, and 
make me have only one wife, as Sechele has." Would 
that this spirit, which repels the truth because it will 
require sacrifices, were confined to the barbarians of 
Africa; but it is in our midst, and is the secret of wilful 
ignorance in thousands. 

Very different was the temper of these Magians. They 
might have perplexed themselves with curious specula- 



The Shir of Bethlehem. 40 

tions as to the star; they might have lulled themselves 
by pleading the length and cost of such a journey; they 
might have waited for other lights — for more clear and 
man i lest tokens. But when were such pretexts ever 
heard from men really sincere and truly in earnest? No, 
they hail with joy the light vouchsafed to them — 
though it is not a sun, but only a star. They arise 
quickly, they are at once obedient to the heavenly call; 
and from the regions of the morning, they urge their 
camels over mountains and through deserts; until all 
travel-worn, yet with unaoated eagerness, they present 
themselves before that lowly but imperial presence. 

See, in the next place, the noble independence of these 
distinguished sages. Without this habitual assertion of 
our spiritual freedom, we cannot be Christians; for Ave 
shall neither discover nor obey the truth. We will con- 
sult the impressions which the truth makes, not upon 
ourselves, but on others; our docility will be shown in 
our submission, not to God, but to man; our creed will 
be, not what is, but what is commonly accepted as, the 
truth. Recollect, my friends, that the right of every 
man to think and act tor himself is not only a privilege, but 
a duty which can never be renounced. Jf we are to follow 
Jesus, we must liberate our minds and consciences and 
wills, so that truth shall be revered and obeyed in all 
things. Relying upon God alone for strength and appro- 
bation, we must recognize the grandeur of the soul, and 
protect the interests of that soul ; calling no man mas- 
ter, resisting the usurpation of sects, or priests, or 
authority, or custom; asserting the control over our own 
thoughts and acts as the noblest treasure we possess — far 
nobler than the empire over the material creation. 

In these Magi this heroical spirit is admirably illus- 
trated. " When it pleased God," says the Apostle, "to 
reveal his Son in me, straightway I conferred not with 
flesh and blood.'' And such is the spirit of these ven- 
erable men, who look not to earth, but to heaven for the 
light which is to guide their feet. At home, they do not 
wait to consult witli the wise and learned of their own 
land; but, alone, they leave all and follow the celestial 
herald which marshals them away. Arriving at Jeru- 



50 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

salem, what do they find? They expected, beyond a 
doubt, to meet the whole city and land alive to this 
great event, filled with joy, other objects forgotten, and 
the stupendous phenomenon absorbing all hearts. In- 
stead of this, the people and the priests are sunk in 
ignorance and sensuality, are clinging to their prejudi- 
ces, and regardless of him who had come to set them 
free. But none of these things move them, nothing can 
shake their purpose. They are firm, they will neither 
use any disguises; nor will they soften the truth to 
please people, or priest, or king. " Where is he," they 
boldly inquire, " who is born king of the Jews-? for we 
have seen his star in the east, and have come to worship 
him;" and, spurning the solicitations of Herod who 
wished to seduce them, they repair to the royal birth- 
place, adoring the princely offspring of heaven, pledging 
to him their delighted allegiance. 

And this suggests the only other trait T shall notice in 
these Magi; I mean their great faith — a faith which ap- 
pears to me the more admirable, the more I contemplate it. 

There are those who maintain that the faith of the 
ignorant, who only believe what their priests and pas- 
tors have taught them, is the best faith ; but what a doc- 
trine this, especially what a doctrine in the creed of a 
Christian. For it is to maintain, that the Jews ought 
never to have changed their hereditary opinions and 
received the Gospel. It is really to affirm, that Protest- 

tism ought never to have condemned the errors of 



an 



i & 



Rome ; that the heathen ought not to abandon their 
idols, and turn to Christ. The faith required in the 
Christian is an enlightened faith ; and if it be true, as 
has been said, that the faith of the Gospel encounters 
peculiar obstacles in the learned and honored, the diffi- 
culty is not in their great minds, but in their proud 
hearts. Peter, indeed, speaks of things in the Scripture 
which are " hard to be understood ;" but it is not these 
obscure doctrines which offend such men, it is things 
easy to be understood, and only "hard" to be obeyed ; 
it is the truths which assail their pride, their passions, 
and lusts. Let the Gospel be once truly enthroned in 
the heart, and the more noble the intellect, the more 



The Star of Bethlehem. 51 



simple will I*; 1 the faith ; for reason will teach, that faith 
m God's word is the highest reason. It was thus with 
Daniel, thus with Paul ; and it is thus with these Magi, 
for how practical, how wise, how immovable, how sub- 
lime is their faith. 

A practical faith. Do they foolishly argue, as some 
do who arrogate to themselves all the orthodoxy upon 
earth, and say. If God means ns to go, we need not bestir 
ourselves, he will in his own time compel us ? No, they 
arise and follow the light which beckons them to obe- 
dience. 

A wise faith. For, when, arriving at Jerusalem, the 
star disappears, they do not murmur and abandon the 
pursuit, but they employ the means which are now left. 
They enquire diligently of those who ought to Know, 
and seek to find the object of their journey; and it is 
while they are thus earnestly employing- these means 
that the star again gladdens their souls with his beams. 
True faith will long for clearer light; but it will use the 
light which it has; just as the traveller wishes for the 
morning, but is thankful for the moon or the stars or for 
a lamp by which he may be guided. 

The faith of these Magians was a steadfast faith. 
Accustomed to oriental ideas of regal pomp and mag- 
nificence, how great is their surprise when they find the 
King of Glory in a manger. What, they might well 
have said, Is this a palace? Are these the royal cham- 
berlains? Is this the equipage of majesty ? We have 
been mocked, seduced into an arduous journey only to find 
ourselves the dupes of some magical imposture. But 
they "stagger not through unbelief/* and — though his 
couch was thus obscure and humble — shepherds his only 
retinue, — they see and worship the incarnate God. It is 
the very office of faith, to penetrate clouds and triumph 
where the senses would despair; otherwise we Christians 
would be of all men most miserable, for when we ask, 
k - Where is lie who was born king of the Jews, who is 
the king of our souls, in whom are centred all our affec- 
tions and hopes ? what an answer do we receive, what a 
spectacle is presented to our eyes. "We behold him 



52 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

nailed to a cross; expiring as a malefactor between two 
thieves ; and over his head, pierced and bleeding, is writ- 
ten, " THIS IS JESUS TEE KING OF THE JEWS." 

I will only add, that . every other element of moral 
grandeur which belongs to the sublimest faith, is illus- 
trated in the conduct of these reverend apostles. In- 
trepid courage, profound humility, disinterested munifi- 
cence, the warmest love, the most inextinguishable 
loyalty. In all these virtues and graces the Christian 
will ever find in these noble sages an example to stimu- 
late and regulate his faith. 

Having thus set before you three classes, let me finish 
with a single question; let me, with individual refer- 
ence, ask those who hear me, To which of these classes 
do you belong ? 

My friend, will you range yourself among those who 
find their representatives in Herod ? No, you vehe- 
mently exclaim, God forbid that I should be found 
among those who hate and persecute the truth. But, 
though less impious, is your conduct less infatuated 
and fatal, if you persevere in imitating the Priests ? if, 
enlightened as to the truth, seeing plainly your duty, 
you basely betray that truth, you timidly compromise 
that duty, and persist in treating the Gospel with a ne- 
glect which is even more unnatural than the open enmity 
of the infidel ? 

My dear friends, let us at length learn to be truly 
wise. Let us study the lessons which the Holy Spirit 
teaches us in the example of these eastern Parsees. Re- 
member, he only is a Christian who, like them, seeks, in 
simplicity, candor, faith, to know the truth ; and who at 
any cost obeys the truth. Like this lowly child, truth 
is indeed neglected by the world, but what honor does 
God confer upon it, how ought we to prize and honor it. 
Truth, I repeat it, truth is the only treasure of the 
mind, the only purifier of the heart, the only joy of the 
conscience, our true glory in life, our exceeding and 
ineffable consolation in death. 



The Star of Bethlehem. 53 



Having once caught a sight of that kingly star of Ja- 
cob, these venerable sages can afterwards see no- other in 
all God's heavens. All their lifetime it had been their 
delight to contemplate the shining hosts which nightly 
stud the burning dome; but now, stars, clusters, con- 
stellations, all the golden fires which fret the brave o'er- 
hanging roof, shed no light for them. One single orb 
has fixed their hearts, and fixed them forever. Vainly 
does the gentlest of the planets woo them at early dawn 
and evening with her silver radiance. Vainly does the 
ringed Saturn sparkle with refulgent glories, and the 
mooned Jupiter "flame in the forehead of the morning 
sky." and Arctnrus gird himself with his blazing zones, 
and the belted Orion brandish his glittering sword, and 
the Pleiades seek to bind them with their sweet influen- 
ces. One star now absorbs them; it fills their eyes ; it 
inflames their souls. The Star of Bethlehem reigns in 
the ascendant ; to know no decline nor obscuration; 
but to hang forever and forever above their horizon — 
their guide through life; and the Hespems of the grave, 
illuminating all the dusky valley of the shadow of 
death. 



Let us cherish this sublime faith, this supreme ador- 
ing loyalty to Jesus and his truth. "If ye continue in 
my words, then are ye my disciples indeed, and ye shall 
know the truth, and the truth shall make you free. 
God grant that this sublime freedom may be secured by 
each of us. " When they saw the star," — it is said of 
these oriental travellers — they " rejoiced with exceeding 
great joy." If Pagans could thus rejoice in the truth, 
what ought to be the emotions of Christians? If a few 
mvsterious beams could delight the hearts of those who 
had been nurtured in superstition, what should we feel, 
who have lived from childhood under the splendors of 
the Gospel ? If the followers of Zoroaster were thus 
transported by the rays of a star, what rapture, what 
adoring ecstacy should forever glow in the bosom of a 
disciple of Jesns beholding the noonday effulgence of 
the Sun himself? May each of us know the truth. 
May we obey the truth. May we understand from blessed 



13 



54 



Richard Fuller's Sermons. 



experience the tranquility, the freedom, the happiness 
which the truth can bestow. God grant us this un- 
speakable blessing. To him be glory and dominion for- 
ever. Amen - . 




Bible Testimony the Best Testimony. 55 



Sermon ©turn. 



BIBLE TESTIMONY THE BEST 
TESTIMONY. 

[first sermon on the text.] 

"If they hear not Moses and the prophets, neither will they be per- 
suaded though one rise from the dead."— Luke XA r i : 31. 

TN the parable of the rich man and Lazarus, there are 
■*- several most solemn and instructive lessons given by 
Him to whom the secrets of eternity were all open. He 
here speaks to us of the surprising contrasts which will 
take place in men's conditions, when death shall strike 
a balance and their destinies be fixed forever. And he 
here lifts the veil and shews us one man whose soul passed, 
immediately after death, into a state of unspeakable and 
everlasting torment. If this is not in the parable, then 
nothing is there, and Jesus is a false teacher. And when 
we examine the character of the man thus lost, what was 
he? an infidel? a debauchee? a blasphemer? let us not 
thus turn oft* the edge of the Saviour's warning. The 
rich man is not charged with these vices ; nor was he a 
glutton, a cruel monster of inhumanity, as we are wont 
to represent him. It was not necessary that Jesus should 
uncover the abyss of hell to shew us the doom of such 
criminals. His allowing a diseased and loathsome beg- 
gar to take his stand at the porch of his palace and thus 
to receive alms from his wealthy and noble visitors, Avas 
really an evidence of his charitable disposition.* The 

* Speaking of the Palazzo Lanfranchi, in Pisa, Simond says, 
"Alighting at the door of this very fine abode, we found it beset, 
and the outside flight of steps literally crowded with frightful 
looking objects, men, women, children, basking in the sun togeth- 
er, eaten up with sores and vermin, and clamorous for alms. 
Such a sight, denoting a charitable house, is here deemed cred- 
itable." 



56 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

sin by which this man involved himself in such misery 
was a life of selfish ease, indolence, sensual enjoyment — 
the very life which all envy, which many of the poor as 
well as the rich now lead, and which Jesus here declares 
to be incompatible with salvation, directly opposed to the 
life of faith, self-denial, holiness, which he requires in 
his disciples. 

But these and other truths taught in the parable I 
must sacrifice, that I may come to the very important 
declaration in the text. His eyes now opened to the real 
estimate of things, this unhappy man sees that salvation 
alone deserves our cares, prayers and sacrifices ; he there- 
fore beseeches that Lazarus may be sent to admonish his 
five brethren, lest they too come to this place of torment. 
Abraham answers, that God has given a revelation to 
them which was abundantly sufficient. And when Dives 
insists that a messenger from the grave would be effect- 
ual, the patriarch replies in these remarkable words — "If 
they believe not Moses and the prophets, neither will 
they be persuaded though one rise from the dead." 

It is to this assertion I am going to ask your attention. 
Before proceeding with the matter allow me, however, to 
remind you that the truth of this affirmation does not 
depend at all upon the successor failure of my argument. 
It is the declaration of that God who made us, and who 
knows perfectly what means are best adapted to con- 
vince and persuade us. I grieve when I hear ministers 
speak of proving what God has proclaimed ; it insinuates 
that the communication may be false. But a preacher 
may humbly seek to elucidate a passage in God's word. 
"By manifestation of the truth he may commend him- 
self to every man's conscience in the sight of God." — 
This is what I would now attempt; and for this purpose 
I submit to you two propositions. First, I say, that a 
man living in Jerusalem, in the days of the apostles, had 
evidence of the truth of the revelation given us by God, 
superior to any which could have been furnished by an 
apparition from the grave. Secondly, we, living at this 
day, have evidence as to revealed truth superior to any 
which could have been possessed by a man living at Je- 
rusalem in the days of the apostles. These two propo- 



Bible Testimony the Best Testimony. 57 



sit ions cover the entire ground; and, these being estab- 
lished, it will follow, of course, that the same causes 
which now defeat the ordinary means of grace would ren- 
der ineffectual, for any permanent saving influence, a 
message delivered by one sent from the dead. Honor me 
with even more than your usual attention, as I must com- 
press into two brief discourses matter which might easily 
be expanded into a volume. 

First, then, I affirm that a man living at Jerusalem in 
the days of the apostles had evidence of the truth of the 
revelation given us by God, superior to any which could 
have been furnished by an apparition from the grave. — 
This is my first proposition ; and to put the argument in 
a form so simple that a child may comprehend it, let us 
suppose that the prayer of this rich man had been grant- 
ed, and that. Lazarus had been sent to his five brethren 
living in their palaces at Jerusalem. 

Now to this miserable outcast from heaven and from 
hope, it seemed impossible that such a warning could be 
unheeded. Nor am I at all surprised at this. To a man 
in hell, to a man in the midst of all those tremendous re- 
alities, — afar off that heaven which he had wantonly for- 
feited — all around and within the anguish of the damned, 
— to a man suddenly torn from all the pleasures, the vo- 
luptuous charms and luxuries of such a life, and precip- 
itated into "the lake that burnetii with lire and brim- 
stone" — I understand that it would appear impossible for 
such an admonition to be in vain. Which of you would 
disregard this sermon, if you had been plunged into these 
llaming gulfs for an hour, and then brought back to 
earth? If a preacher were sent to those dungeons of des- 
pair, and were only for once to proclaim free pardon, 
for once to cry "Escape for your lives," how many of that 
gloomy population would treat lightly his exhortation or 
begin to make excuses? 

With the five aristocratic citizens of the metropolis, 
sunk in earthliness, filled with pride, revelling in all the 
gratifications and appliances of wealth and fashion, the 
matter would, however, have been very different. A 
message like that which Lazarus would bear, a message 
so unwelcome, a message recpiiring them to renounce 



58 Richard Fullers /Sermons. 

all their darling pleasures, their old habits of effeminacy 
and self-indulgence, to surmount all the seductions of the 
world, to crucify the flesh with its affections and lusts, its 
inveterate passions, and to lead lives of self-denial, mor- 
tification, holiness — he must be indeed a novice in human 
observation and experience who believes that these five 
brethren would have been persuaded by it. 

Nor let any stop me by questioning what I am assert- 
ing. On this point I have practical demonstration. I 
have facts with which there can be no sort of equivoca- 
tion. Witness the Jews. How often did God send mes- 
sages to them from eternity — speaking to them by his 
prophets, multiplying visions, instructions, admonitions, 
entreaties. Nor did they doubt that the communications 
were from Jehovah, yet they despised these reproofs and 
set at naught these counsels. Yea, God himself spake to 
them, at Sinai, with thunder and lightning and with the 
terrible clangor of a trumpet smiting the silence of the 
desert. God himself went with them in the pillar of tire 
and cloud. "Ask now of the days that are past which 
were before thee, since the day that God created man up- 
on the earth; and ask from the one side of heaven to the 
other, whether there has been any such thing as this 
great thing is, or hath been heard like it? Did ever peo- 
ple hear the voice of God speaking out of the midst of 
the fire as thou hast heard?" But scarcely had the sight 
of the glory of the Lord, like devouring fire on the top of 
the mount, ceased; even while Moses was in the mount, 
and b?fore forty days had elapsed, "they made a calf in 
Horeb, worshipped the molten image, and changed their 
glorious God into the similitude of an ox that eateth 
grass." During that wonderful journey in which they 
were fed every day miraculously, and with that august 
banner hanging over them, they rebelled against God and 
wearied him with their sins and passions. I need not, 
however, go to other ages or to another people. The de- 
monstration needed I find at this day and nearer home. 
I have it here in this city, here in this house, a nong you, 
who are listening to this sermon. For are there any of 
you who doubt the truth of the Bible? Not one. i"et 
how many of you show in your lives that the snares of the 



Bible Testimony the Best Testimony. 59 



senses, the fascinations of the world, the temptations of 
the passions, the cures of business, the deceitfulness of 
riches, the lust of many things are stronger than "the 
powers of the world to come;" too strong for the admon- 
itions, invitations, convictions which crowd upon yon 
from eternity. 

The fact is that we take up the whole thing amiss, 
when Ave reason about revelation as we do about mathemat- 
ical problems. The reception of religious truth depends 
far more upon the heart than upon the head ; and when 
truth condemns us, or requires painful sacrifices, the heart 
is deceitful above all things, it is inexhaustible in in- 
venting doubts, objections, suggestions and artifices by 
which the force of evidence maybe evaded. We see this 
constantly, not only in our pretended sceptics, but in 
multitudes who believe the Scriptures, yet "obey not the 
truth," and whose conduct is so unaccountable upon any 
rational supposition, that the apostle declares they are 
"bewitched." And if Lazarus had been sent to the rich 
man's brethren, these same pretexts would have lulled 
their consciences. 

Affecting to be a philosopher, the first brother would 
say, How can it be proved that the man died and rose 
from the dead ? This would be a miracle, but a miracle 
contradicts nature and therefore no evidence can estab- 
lish it. Such is Mr. Hume's sophistry against miracles; 
and the " father of lies " would not have failed to sug- 
gest it to tiiis lover of pleasure in Jerusalem. This ap- 
parition at the time seemed real enough, the second 
brother, a pretender to science, would say;, but it is 
easily explained on physiological principles. It was 
simply one of those very strange optical delusions — the 
effect of a disturbed nervous system — of which we read 
such singular accounts. The third brother, a practical 
man, piqueing himself on his knowledge of human na- 
ture — would treat the appearance with ridicule, and, 
with his gay companions would pronounce it only 
another of these tricks of jugglery by which artful 
rogues impose upon the credulity of women and chil- 
dren. The fourth brother, feigning great humility, would 



60 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 



ask, whether anybody could believe thai God would 
thus trouble himself about things so insignificant and 
unworthy ? While the fifth, unable to overcome some 
superstitious misgivings, would ascribe the phenomenon 
to demoniacal agency. I cannot deny that a ghost did 
visit me ; but did not the witch of Enclor raise Samuel 
from the dead ? The sacred books warn us of the 
charms used by evil spirits; and as to his seemingly 
kind admonitions, and all he gibbered about our brother, 
why Satan, we know, can transform himself into an 
angel of light for the malignant purpose of troubling us 
in the innocent use of that wealth which God has given 
us richly to enjoy. 

I am supposing that they would condescend to pay 
any attention to a messenger from the grave. The prob- 
ability is that they would refuse to listen at all, and dis- 
miss with contempt an impostor telling such a prepos- 
terous tale. But supposing the vision to be such as to 
startle them at the moment; the subterfuges which I 
have put into the mouths of these brethren are only a 
few out of a hundred I might suggest, all of which are 
much more rational than the pleas for doubts and dis- 
obedience which we every day hear from people around 
us. No sooner had he been converted than — his mind 
irradiated with divine light — his heart glowing with 
love for souls — Melancthon hastened forth, confident 
that he could bring everybody to welcome the truth 
which had broken in upon him in such power and glory. 
But he soon returned to Luther and said, u I find the 
world too strong for young Philip." His experience 
had been that of prophets and apostles and of the Sa- 
viour himself; they still had mournfully to exclaim, 
" Who hath believed our report ?" Kor would Lazarus 
have fared better in his ministry. These five brethren 
were like the rest of mankind ; they had the same en- 
grossments, the same aversion from religious concerns, 
the same love of wealth, honor, power, sensual pleasures. 
They would either have made light of the warning ; or 
they would have gone to their farms or to their mer- 
chandise. Purple and fine linen and sumptuous living 
every day, would have been stronger logic than any 



Bible Testimony the Best Testimony, ff] 



which a visitant from another world could have urged ; 
and soon their old habits, their customary gratifications, 
a round of fashionable company and amusements — halls, 

clubs, theatres, gaming, the care of their large estates 
now augmented by their brother's death, and the di- 
vision of which demanded their immediate attention — 
would have displaced all serious feeling; and the world 
and the things of the world — the lusts of the flesh, the 
lust of the eye and the pride of life — would have reas- 
serted and resumed the supremacy over them. 

All this seems to me to be incontestable; and all this 
appeals to your common sense; for the arguments sub- 
mitted to you have been drawn, not from books of theolo- 
gy, but from universal observation and experience. I 
am well aware, however, that some of you may still dis- 
sent. " Nay," said the rich man, ;; but if one went unto 
them from the dead, they will repent," and what he ut- 
tered you are secretly thinking. When charged with his 
sin, Adam replied, "The woman that thou gavest me, she 
tempted me." The language of Dives repeats this impu- 
tation by insinuating that God had given an insufficient 
revelation— an impiety not confined to hell from whence 
it came, but still heard amongst us; and to expose which 
I have only to refer to the volume thus assailed, in whose 
pages we find the very attestation required, and as to 
which our cavillers, like those in the Saviour's day, tell 
us that if this were given they would believe. 

I am supposing, you remember, that a man had lived 
at Jerusalem in the days of the apostles. Xow at that 
time there was really living in Bethany, a village only 
two miles from the city, a man named Lazarus who had 
been raised from the dead. Many of the Jews witnessed 
this miracle, and he who had come back from the grave 
was, no doubt, often in the city. Nobody then questioned 
this resurrection. Celsus, the most acute and learned of 
the ancient pretenders to infidelity, and who lived but a 
few years after the apostles, distinctly admits it as a fact, 
but he ascribes it to ma2,ic. Magic! but if magic could 

DO O 

explain the raising of this man, it might then explain 
every other phenomenon of the same kind. 

This, however, is little when compared with another 

3 



62 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

fact which I now bring forward. The raising of Lazarus 
was the return only of a common man from a common 
grave. One living in Jerusalem during the time of the 
apostles had before him a death and resurrection of a 
very different sort; I mean, of course, those of Jesus him- 
self, to which it is not improbable he referred when 
— addressing the captious Pharisees who were always re- 
quiring a sign — he made Abraham, the father of whom 
they boasted, declare from heaven, "If they believe not 
Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded 
though one rose from the dead." 

Now as to this grand, central fact upon which the 
Christian rests with a faith, an assurance, a joy unspeak- 
able and full of glory, I speak confidently — as one accus- 
tomed in other days to sift evidence most carefully, 
and as one who feels that everything depends upon per- 
fect certainty here — when J affirm that no event in history 
is ascertained by testimony more absolutely conclusive. 
With the mass of evidence on this subject you are fa- 
miliar and I need not now go into the details. Let me 
only repeat what I have just asserted, that no ordi- 
nary death and resurrection could have been half so con- 
vincing. In the first place, rememher that a long series 
of prophecies not to be misunderstood, had concentrated 
universal attention upon Jesus as the promised Messiah. 
Then, his doctrines and miracles proclaimed openly that 
God was with him. His life and character elevated him 
immeasurably above the sons of men, and repelled the 
thought that he could deceive others or be himself de- 
ceived. His execution was public, so that there could be 
not a question about his death; and as if to make assur- 
ance doubly sure, he was pierced by a lance, and blood 
and water gushing from the wound showed that the peri- 
cardium had been perforated. To all this add, that he 
had staked the truth of his doctrines upon his resurrec- 
tion ; and that the Jews, accepting the issue, used every 
precaution to prevent any deception, sealing the tomb and 
placing a guard of veteran Roman soldiers as a watch 
over it day and night. Collect these thoughts, and you 
will confess that no common death and resurrection could 
have so defied all controversy and cavil. 



Bible Testimony Ihe Best Testimony, 63 

Now, suppose the contemporary of fhe apostles of whom 
I am speaking to have possessed the evidence which 
the apostles had; to have known Jesus before his cruci- 
fixion, and to have seen him after he had risen; you will 
admit that no other death and resurrection could have 
shed such perfect certainty ujxm the Gospel. Or, sup- 
pose that, although he had not himself beheld the risen 
Redeemer, he, like thousands around him, had been thor- 
oughly satisfied by the testimony of the witnesses, you 
will concede that it was all one as if he had had ocular 
demonstration; for this could have done no more than to 
convince him. All this is self-evident. But how, you 
say, if he had heard the testimony and still doubted ? — 
Why, then, he would have been an incurable sceptic who 
would doubt anything which he did not wish to believe. 
His unbelief must have sprung, not from his head, but 
his heart, from a lodged and rooted prejudice 
against truth, from a love of darkness rather than light; 
and vainly for him would a messenger have been sent 
from the world of spirits. 

Here, again, we take up the whole thing amiss and en- 
tirely mistake the philosophy of the human intellect, 
when we think that the testimony of the senses to an ap- 
parition would exert any permanent influence. For a 
day or two, I grant, that such a phenomenon would ter- 
rify a guilty soul. But the visit would, of necessity, be 
only transient, and it requires little knowledge of man — 
of the jealousy with which he revises and scrutinizes his 
past feelings and conclusions when he wishes to get rid 
of them — not to anticipate what would follow after a 
while; how this ghost-seer would begin to suspect, and 
then gradually succeed in banishing the whole thing as 
an illusion, a dream, a phantom conjured up by distem- 
pered nerves, and by the strange, inexplicable, mysterious 
power which such nerves exert upon the brain and im- 
agination ; in short as one of those spectra about which 
volumes have been written, and which no medical science 
can fully explain. 

On the other hand, it is impossible to conceive how 
any sane mind could have resisted the accumulated 
proofs of the Saviour's resurrection. Why just look a 



64 Richard Fuller s Sermons. 

moment at the number of witnesses; not one but many; 
not only the apostles at different times, but five hundred 
at one time; not only the disciples, who if Christ had 
not risen, were the dupes of an impostor, but enemies 
among whom was that bitter persecutor Saul of Tar- 
sus. Consider the fact to which they testify, one as to 
which they could not possibly have been mistaken ; — 
that they had seen him, touched him, conversed with 
him; eaten with him; and this not for a brief hour but 
for forty days. 

Mark the time and place of this testimony; not after the 
lapse of years, but immediately; not in some district 
remote from the scene; but in Jerusalem, in the very 
face of the people and the Sanhedrim. Observe their 
perfect unanimity. If you enter a court-house and listen 
to half a dozen men who have been subpoenaed as to 
some tragedy which took place in their presence, you 
will find scarcely two agreeing in all the details. But 
as to Christ's resurrection — though the witnesses differ 
in age, temperament, education, prejudices — there is not 
the slightest shade of discrepancy. Study the lives of 
these witnesses, and see the wonderful revolution 
wrought in their character and conduct by the great 
truth which they attest. Behold the miracles by which 
God vindicates the veracity of this cloud of witnesses. 
Bring forth, they said, your sick, your lame, your halt, 
your blind; and in the name of risen Jesus they healed 
them all. Place yourselves at the tribunals before which 
they are dragged, and examined, and cross-examined, 
and threatened with the severest penalties; and note the 
intrepid, triumphant confidence with which they repeat 
their depositions. And add, lastly, the poverty, con- 
tempt, persecution, torture, cruel martyrdom with which 
they sealed their testimony — braving all, welcoming all, 
in all exclaiming, " Blessed be the God and Father of 
our Lord Jesus Christ who hath begotten us again to a 
lively hope by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the 
dead. " 

Now I ask, could a man living in Jerusalem at that 
time resist all this? Really I should say he could not. 
I would pronounce it impossible, if 1 did not know that 



Bible Testimony the Best Testimony. 65 

the heart will resist anything which it is unwilling to 

believe. Nothing can be plainer, however, than this, 
that if a man could stand it out against such proof, 
neither would he be persuaded though Lazarus had come 
to him from the dead. 

For just see how the matter stands. In order to 
evade or resist all this testimony, consider what absurd- 
ities a man would have had to digest. He must either 
have supposed that all these witnesses had been deceived, 
which was impossible; or he must have believed that a 
fable changed entirely the character of these witnesses; 
that .without any motive, nay, in spite of every motive 
by which men are influenced, they combined to testify to 
a fable, to suffer all mortal evils for a fable; to die the 
most painful deaths for a fable, and for a fable most easily 
exposed; since if Jesus had not risen, the Jews possessed 
his dead body and could at any time have produced it 
— all which would have required the stupidity of an 
idiot, for all which a man must have stultified himself. 

Whereas, as w r e have seen, it would not have been at 
all impossible, nay not at all difficult, gradually to doubt, 
then to reject, then to banish all thought of a vision, the 
reality of which rested only upon the remembered, ever 
receding evidence of organs which are often diseased and 
strangely distorted. 



66 Richard Fuller s Sermons. 



Sermon Jfourtti- 



BIBLE TESTIMONY THE BEST 
TESTIMONY. 

[second sermon on the text ] 

"If they hear not Moses and the prophets, neither will they be per- 
suaded though one rose from the dead."— Luke xvi : 31. 

IN the former discourse I think I have established our 
first proposition, and have demonstrated that a man liv- 
ing at Jerusalem in the times of the apostles had stronger 
evidence of the truths recorded in the Bible than could 
have been furnished by the mission of Lazarus from the 
dead. I pass, now to our remaining proposition, which 
maintains that we, at this day, have evidence superior to 
that which could have been possessed by a man in Jeru- 
salem during the ministry of the Apostles. 

We have just seen that the evidence of the truth of 
Christ's doctrine must have convinced such a man if he 
were sane; but now, this evidence is just as conclusive 
for us as it was for him. If, indeed, the testimony had 
been only by word of mouth, and had been transmitted 
to us through a succession of oral witnesses, why, then, I 
could not have denied that it would be liable to suspicion, 
just in proportion to our distance from the time and 
place of the transactions put in issue. But you know 
that this is not the case. The testimony on which we 
rely is the original deposition of the apostles themselves; 
and this record is, of course, invested with the same au- 
thority new as when it was first written. It would be 
simply foolish to pretend that the lapse of years invali- 
dates the genuineness or authenticity or force of a docu- 
ment drawn up and signed on the spot by those who 
were eye-witnesses of an important event, and which has 
come down to us in the very words of its authors. Do 



Bible Testimony the Best Testimony. 67 

any of you doubt that such a man as Washington once 
lived and composed the letters and dispatches, and per- 
formed the deeds attributed to him? Nbrdoesany inter- 
val of time affect our faith in a well-authenticated his- 
torical fact. 

You read the writings of Luther, and. the Commentaries 
of Julius Caesar, and you are just as sure about the exist- 
ence and works and achievements of these heroes as you 
are about those of Washington. Well, now, all this ap- 
plies to the matter conveyed to us by the sacred biogra- 
phers. I lay no stress here upon the inspiration of the 
Gospels, which, of course, verities them for all ages; our 
argument regards them as we would any other annals the 
truth of which we do not question. And I say that prox- 
imity to the period of the Saviour's resurrection could 
add just nothing at all to a man's convictions as to that 
grand event. Those convictions must depend entirely 
upon the amount and w 7 eight of evidence; and this w r e 
have as fully and irrefragably as if we had lived in the 
second or third century, as if we had conversed with the 
apostles, and had received their narrative from their own 
lips. Up to this point, then, you will admit that we 
stand upon the same footing with a man who lived at Je- 
rusalem in the days of the first disciples. But there are 
other aspects of the case in which Ave possess vast advan- 
tages. In the fact that, instead of having to overcome 
the prejudices of a Jew, we have the force of public opin- 
ion on the side of the Gospel; in the fact that age after 
age has sat in assize upon the Scripture canon, and has 
delivered verdict after verdict confirming its certainty; 
in the fact that all the assaults of infidelity have only vin- 
dicated the invulnerable strength of the foundation on 
which the Christian's faith reposes; in the standing mira- 
cles afforded by the clear fulfillment of prophecies; fi- 
nally in the cumulative and constantly accumulating ev- 
idence furnished by the wonderful triumphs of the king- 
dom of Jesus — triumphs confessedly beyond the power 
of a few illiterate obscure fishermen, triumphs which 
have shaped and are shaping the growing stature of the 
world, moulding its character and destiny — and which 
Gamaliel, the most distinguished Jewish contemporary of 



68 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

the apostles, pronounced impossible unless the cause was 
the cause of God himself; in all these respects we enjoy 
unspeakable advantages over a man in Jerusalem at the 
commencement of Christianity. 

I have now, I humbly conceive, established beyond all 
fair controversy both the propositions submitted to you. 
And these having been established, the assertion in our 
text at once commends itself to your conscience and chal- 
lenges your candid acquiescence. As I remarked in the 
outset of this discourse, that assertion rests upon the ve- 
racity of God, and does not require any confirmation from 
man or angel. I hope, however, indeed I see in your 
countenances, that I have induced you to 'reflect upon it, 
and constrained you to give it your full concurrence. — 
And this being so, it follows that, if the means of salva- 
tion vouchsafed us by infinite wisdom and mercy do not 
bring you to repent and cast your souls upon the great 
atonement, no other means would be effectual. If one 
should come to you from the dead you would not be per- 
suaded; you would still shelter yourself in some refuge 
of lies; you would still invent pleas, pretexts, subterfu- 
ges for worldliness and disobedience; you would still con- 
tinue to swell the number of those to whom God says, 
" Behold ye despisers and wonder and perish, for I work 
a work in your days, a work which ye shall in no wise 
believe though a man declare it unto you."' 

It may be that some of you are saying, Far be it from 
us to despise the Gospel. It is true we do not believe it; 
we confess that we are sceptics, but it is not our fault; 
our doubts are involuntary, we cannot prevent them. — 
Very well. Kest assured, however, that you would still 
have these involuntary doubts though one rose from the 
dead. 1 will not say to you what I ought to say, and 
what death will soon force you to confess. I will not re- 
mind you how preposterous it is for one to talk about in- 
voluntary doubts, whose indolence and worldliness have 
prevented him from examining the subject. JNor will 1 
stop to shew that these doubts spring from your ignor- 
ance, or your passions, or a most unworthy vanity. Let 
this pass. You tell me you are sincere in your increduli- 
ity. 13e it so. You would justly be offended if I should 



Bible Testimony the Best Testimony, 69 

question your veracity. But I tell you that you would be 
equally sincere in youriucredulity, whatever method God 
might use with you as a rational, moral, accountable be- 
ing. 

In fact, however, why need I speak in this strain? — 
In all candor, are there any of this class of people here? 
Are there any pretended infidels in this house ? Not one. 
And if the question were only about belief in the Bible, 
and not about forsaking the world and your sins, there 
is not a man nor a woman within these walls who would 
not be a sincere Christian. If, then, you still neglect the 
great salvation, it is quite certain that no real permanent 
conversion would be wrought in yon, if an apparition 
came to you from the grave. For you could only believe 
then; and you now believe. 

To bring this matter home to ourselves, let it be sup- 
posed that some supernatural vision, say some angelic mes- 
senger should present himself to you to night as you are 
returning home, or in the loneliness of your chamber; 
what would he say to you? He would speak to you of 
the glories of heaven ; he would warn you of the miseries 
of hell ; he would perhaps expostulate with you as to some 
besetting sin for which you are every moment perilling 
your soul ; he would assure you that almost all who per- 
ish from congregations to which the Gospel is faithfully 
preached, perish through procrastination, through the 
fatal influence of worldly cares and pursuits, perish by 
thinking and acting just as you are thinking and acting 
now, and have been for yea;s thinking and acting. If 
some resplendent visitor should be manifested to your 
senses, and should thus address you, the effect, you think, 
Mould be instantaneous and abiding. Well, now, see how r 
the case stands. Everything which I have supposed 
this celestial monitor to say, you know, you now believe, 
and believe on God's testimony. Why then do you not 
act as if you had been thus visited? 

I have suggested some subjects upon which an angel 
would admonish you. But there is one topic as to which, 
above all, he would plead with you, as to which he would 
entreat you, implore you, conjure you with tears (if celes- 
tial beings can weep;) and you well know what that topic 

3* 



70 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 



is. It is the amazing mystery which "angels desire 
to look into." It is that stupendous deed of Jove which 
was wrought, not in heaven, but on earth, not for angels, 
hut for men. To cherub or seraph, to one of the heaven- 
ly host who rejoice over the repentance of a sinner, the 
cross, the altar on Calvary, and the great atonement fin- 
ished on that altar would be the absorbing theme — a 
theme transcendently more awful, affecting, irresistible 
than all the disclosures he could bring from eternity — 
more appalling than hell, more touching, subduing, in- 
spiring, rejoicing than heaven. Bat upon this topic you 
know, from childhood up you have listened to all, you 
have believed all which a preternatural messenger could 
tell you. Visiting the earth and witnessing the conduct 
of most of those to whom the Gospel is preached, an in- 
habitant of the other world would unquestionably sup- 
pose, at first, that they did not believe the glad tidings. — 
But Avhen he came to know that these things were be- 
lieved and produced so little effect, he would surely re- 
gard this as the most incredible infatuation, as the most 
astounding of all the manifestations of human guilt, apos- 
tasy, depravity, and of the dismal power of the god of 
this world "who hath blinded the minds of them that 
believe not, lest the light of the glorious Gospel of Christ 
who is the image of God should shine unto them.'' 



•-r 



My friends, we are so accustomed to see the Gospel 
preached and believed without any saving influence, that 
we have come to regard it as something nol at all surpris- 
ing; but nothing can be more unnatural and astonishing. 
Appealing, as they do, to every feeling, motive, passion 
by which the conscience can be alarmed, the intellect 
absorbed, the heart moved and melted, it would seem — 
supposing men to be men — that the truths of revelation 
must at once produce their legitimate effects. That they 
are treated with indifference betrays a fund of apathy 
and insanity as amazing as it is deplorable. What, my 
dear hearer, you believe, you know that your soul is im- 
mortal, that it must be saved or lost — yet this knowledge 
has no sort of effect upon you; you believe, you know 
that you must soon die, that you may die to-night, and 
that death will translate you either to the hymns, halle- 



Bible Testimony the Best Testimony. 71 

lujahs, raptures of the redeemed, or to chains of darkness, 

to weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth forever — 
yet this knowledge has do effect upon you ; above all, you 
believe, you know that for you the Brightness of the 
Father's glory stooped to earth and, after a weary pil- 
grimage of sorrow, expired upon the cross — yet this 
belief, this knowledge has no effect upon you, all 
this cannot move you, all this does not signify; you 
will in spite of all this, precipitate yourself 
upon everlasting destruction. For my part, I declare 
that when, in my closet I ponder these things, 1 am con- 
vinced that they are absolutely impossible. I read of 
the deceitfulness of the human heart, of "all the deceiv- 
ableness of unrighteousness in them that perish;" but in- 
fidelity, atheism itself appears to me not half so utterly 
irreconcilable with sanity of mind. To think thus, how- 
ever, one must remain in his closet. To think thus one 
must close his eyes and ears to what is passing around 
him. Let him open his eyes, let him go into the 
world, let him even come into the sanctuary, and very 
different convictions will force themselves upon him. — 
On no side can he turn, without meeting melancholy ex- 
emplifications of this Avorsethan brutish indifference and 
stupidity, without seeing men and Avomen who, in the 
language of the Holy Spirit, have "madness in their 
hearts" — people otherwise sane, but as to eternal things 
bereft of all reason — immortal beings in whose bosoms 
these truths have had a lodgment from their childhood, 
and who are yet driving on, resolved to rush into a per- 
dition most horrible, and to their minds not more horri- 
ble than certain. 

And after this will you pretend that some other expe- 
dient will arrest and change you? Ko, my dear hearer, 
no. Grod who created man, knows the agencies which 
are best calculated to rouse: him from the lethargy of 
nature and to bring him to obedience. In giving us a 
standing revelation he plies us with these agencies. If 
these fail, he himself declares, and reason, observation, 
experience compel you to confess, that a disembodied 
spirit coming from the unseen world would also fail. It is 
quite certain that God will not try by any other expedient. 
What more can he do to win your heart, than to give his 



72 Richard Fuller' s Sermons. 

Son to die for you ? What more to alarm you and cause 
you to flee from the coming wrath, than to uncover hell 
and point you to the wretchedness of the lost? But it is 
equally certain that, whatever expedient he might try, 
the same causes would frustrate it; the same hardness, 
the same cares and distractions, the same devoted ness to 
the world, the same unwillingness to suspend your pur- 
suitofpleasure, toceaseto be fascinated by thepassior.sand 
to give your attention to the investigation of truth ; the 
same prejudices, the same pride and vanity, the same 
pretexts and subterfuges which now defeat the Gospel 
would defeat any other ministry; neither would you be 
persuaded though one rose from the dead. 

And now what remains but that I implore those of you 
for whom this discourse is intended to make the personal 
application which is so plain and solemn. My friends, 
you every day ask us, what is conversion? what is saving 
faith? Our subject gives you the answer. It tells you 
that conversion, saving faith is no transient, intermittent, 
accident or emotion, but the being so " persuaded" by 
revealed truth as to yield your heart and life to its 
lessons and requirements. The Gospel is "the wisdom 
and the power of God." If you neglect this Gospel, you 
destroy yourself wilfully and wantonly; for you despise 
the wisdom and resist the power of him who is thor- 
oughly acquainted witii the mechanism of our nature, and 
who, in the means of grace now exhibited, employs the 
very apparatus which he knows is best calculated to save 
us; and you will therefore perish certainly, unnecessa- 
rily, wilfully, wantonly. 

And see what it will be to perish. Look at this lost 
soul. See this wretched man casting his longing glances 
across the great gulf up to that heaven which lie 
had slighted ; and think what this sight will be to you, 
if in hell you shall lift up your eyes and see afar off your 
father, mother,, wife, sister, brother, child in those abodes 
of blessedness. Hear this wretched man crying, " I am 
tormented in this flame," ami feeling that a drop of 
water to cool his parched tongue would be a eort of 
heaven to him. What a doom this for you. YViiat a 
doom for one who might have been saved. What a doom 



Bible Testimony the Best Testimony, 73 

for one. who was entreated to be saved. What a doom 
for one to whom I this night unfold all the riches of 

grace and love; to whom thisnight I offer without money 
or price the waters of the river of life, those oceans of 
delight in which his soul may bathe forever. 

My dearly beloved hearers, have you heard me? Have 
yon listened to what 1 have been saying? Do you 
believe these things and can you still be proof against 
them ? Recollect that these truths are not from the 
Law, but from the Gospel, from the lips of Jesus. Recol- 
lect who are those for whom this misery is reserved ; and 
not only for the infidel, the debauched, the blasphemer; 
but "all who obey not the truth. " To these reflections 
add another; it is, that many of you now before me, now 
looking me in the face, belong to the class \ have just- 
described. Lastly, life is the only period during which 
you can escape this impending doom — a life so brief, so 
uncertain, which may be suddenly terminated by any one 
of the thousand diseases, the thousand accidents which 
lie in ambuscade everywhere in your path. Enter into 
these truths. Will you still continue unconcerned? 
Can you " make light of it ? " Can you eat, drink, sleep, 
while the tremendous problem is undecided as to your 
future destiny ? 

I implore, I conjure, I adjure you, let it not be. Have 
mercy upon me, if not upon yourselves. I know not 
what were the emotions of Abraham as he beheld this lost 
soul in hell. But 1 am not to you what he was to the 
rich man. I am your pastor who loves you, who day and 
night prays for you. The very thought that such a 
destiny may be yours, fills my eyes with tears, my heart 
with unutterable anguish: how then could I endure the 
spectacle itself? Some of you seem to have made up 
your minds to neglect the great salvation, to slight, des- 
pise all which God has done or can do to arouse and 
warn you. Well, remember, that you will die as you 
live. Let me tell you this now while 1 can speak plainly 
to you. The hour may be at hand when I cannot be thus 
faithful; the hour when I shall be summoned to your 
dying pillow, and when my love for you and my sympa- 
thy lor your weeping family will disarm me. At 



7-± Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

such a time, and in such a case, a pastor knows 
what he ought to do; and, believing the Scripture 
to be true — you know what lie ought to do. As 
his ministry can then no longer avail you, he 
ought to use your example as a warning to others; he 
ought to employ it to save wife, children, friends on 
whom your influence has been so pernicious. He ought 
to say, See this man. For ten, twenty, thirty, forty years 
he has set at naught all God's reproofs and has despised 
his mercies, counsels, entreaties. Now he is dying. In 
half an hour he will pass into eternity and will know by 
experience what is the frightful doom which he defied. 
He is dying, and his soul will this night be cast into the 
lake that burnetii. 

But can a pastor ever be thus true to the Bible and his 
own convictions ? No. We are weak men, our hearts are 
melted by the scenes we witness in the chambers of the 
dying; and we seek to invent hopes and illusions to con- 
sole those who look to us for supports in that fearful 
moment. Let me then warn you now, and tell you from 
God, that the end of the rich man must be yours if you 
continue unbelieving, impenitent, disobedient. 

And yet why should this be? Why will you die? 
What are you waiting for? Is it for some calamity to 
rouse you to solemn reflection? But can any calamity 
compare with this, that you are every moment exposed 
to such a frightful doom for eternity ? Or are you wait- 
ing until some voice of unutterable love and tenderness 
shall speak to you from heaven. Such a voice now pleads 
with you. It is to keep you from sinking into everlasting 
fire prepared for the devil and his angels, that Jesus has, in 
this parable, drawn the curtain and disclosed to you the 
realities of another world. It is to save you that, in 
accents of beseeching earnestness, he cries to you from 
the top of the cross, from his throne in glory. Or, per- 
haps, you wish some messenger to come to you from the 
dead. My friend, God will not send any such messen- 
ger. What am I saying? He does send such a mes- 
senger. Lo, he is here. I step aside, I vacate the pulpit. 
Behold one from the dead, one from hell has been com- 
missioned to come to you, and now stands in my place 



Bible Testimony the Best Testimony. 75 

ami preaches to you. Terrible preacher; hear him. A 
preacher robed in flames and emerging from the caverns 
of despair. A preacher who, for an exordium, throws 
his baleful eyes around, and clasps his burning hands 
upon his head : who, for an argument, points to the bil- 
lows of lire which rage and toss in the bottomless pit, 
and to the smoke of their torment ascending forever and 
ever; who for a peroration, wails out, above the clamor 
and thunder of the roaring surges, go not, go not to 
that place of torment. 

Hear, ah, hear him. My sermons are weak and vain 
I bring to you this night another preacher, whose ser- 
mon is not weak ; let it not be in vain. Hear him, apply 
to yourselves his warnings, exhortations, entreaties. And 
apply them now. Delay not. To-morrow it may be too 
late. To-morrow another messenger may come to you 
from eternity ; and that messenger maybe death. To- 
morrow you may die and be buried; and in hell you may 
lift up your eyes being in torment, and see across the im- 
passable gulf all the glories you this night despised; 
and may cry in vain for a drop of water to cool your 
parched tongue; while those words, "Son, remember ! " 
shall sting you with intolerable remorse, as they pour 
in upon you a flood of bitter recollections — reminding 
you of all the mercies, means, opportunities, counsels 
which Avere exhausted upon you, and of the obduracy 
and obstinacy by which — "despising the riches of God's 
goodness and forbearance and long suffering — you treas- 
ured up unto yourself wrath against the day of wrath 
and revelation of the righteous judgment of God." 



76 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 



ermotx JFtftfu 



THE GOOD SAMARITAN. 

"Then said Jesus unto him, Go, and do thou likewise."— Luke x: 37. 

A S the most beautiful uninspired portrait of the 
^~*- Redeemer's character has been drawn by an infidel, 
(I refer to Rousseau's letter which ends with that ques- 
tion, — "My friend, could Jesus Christ have been a 
man?") so it is very remarkable that two of the finest 
eulogiums on the Christian religion were pronounced, 
unintentionally of course, by two of its bitterest enemies. 
" Let us consider," thus wrote Julian the Aposlate to a 
pagan priest, "that nothing has contributed so much to 
the progress of the Christian superstition as their charity 
to strangers. We must begin to discharge this obliga- 
tion ourselves. AVe must establish hospitals. For it 
would be a shame for us to abandon our poor, while the 
Jews have none, and while the impious Galileans provide 
not only for their own poor but for ours." And Lucian 
the satirist said, " It is incredible what pains and dili- 
gence they use to succor one another. Their legislator 
made them believe that they are all brethren, and since 
they renounced our religion and worshipped their cru- 
cified leader, they live according to his laws, and all their 
riches are in common." 

Whatever assaults a modern Julian or Lucian might 
make upon our conduct, it is quite certain they would 
bring no such charges as these. There is no danger that 
any body will upbraid us with a delusion which causes 
us to regard each other as brothers, with a superstition 
which betrays us into excesses of charity and benev- 
olence. 

The truth is, the first Christians were infected with a 



The Good Samaritan. 77 



celestial contagion. They caught from Jesus the very 
spirit which he brought from heaven. "God is love." 
Jesus was "God manifest in the flesh." lie was the 
incarnation of love; — love exploring the abysses of 
human wretchedness; love uttering tones which sank 
into men's hearts, as the soft rain into the thirsty earth ; 
love diffusing itself everywhere in the dearest, sweetest 
charities; love sympathizing with human sorrow; weep- 
ing over human misery, relieving human distress, expir- 
ing for human redemption. And these disciples " learned 
Christ," studied the truth, not in cold systems and 
creeds, but "truth as it was in Jesus." Hence their 
souls were so fired that nothing could satisfy them. 
Bach regarded himself as a missionary. Each glowed 
with a spirit which we are so ready to admire, so slow to 
emulate. Not only did the churches send the Gospel to 
to distant lands, but every church became the centre of 
beneficent influences at home. Their Jove for the poor 
and suffering knew no bounds, and their munificence 
seems to be almost fabulous. Chrysostom mentions one 
church which supported three thousand old people and 
widows and orphans. When the emperor Decius 
demanded the wealth of another church, the deacons 
asked for one day in which to collect them; and at the 
expiration of that time they appeared with a multitude 
of the poor, the maimed, the blind, the sick, the aged, 
tire orphaned, and said, " Sire, these are the riches of our 
church." 

Such was their charity. For ours but I stop, I 

check myself, I draw a veil over the melancholy contrast, 
and proceed with what heart and hope I may, to the 
business before me. 

I anr here this morning to address you in behalf of our 
"Ladies 7 Home Mission Society''' — a society formed to 
visit the poor and suffering, to relieve their wants, to read 
the Scriptures and impart spiritual instruction to them, 
to clothe their children and bring them into the Sabbath 
school ; and I cannot discharge the office with which 
these Christian women have honored me better than by 
offei ing you a simple commentary on the parable from 
which niv text is taken. 



78 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

I. The scene is on the road from Jerusalem to Jericho; 
a road leading among ravines, desolate, gloomy, and one 
portion of it so dangerous that it was called " The 
Bloody Way." Here, says the Saviour, lay a man one 
morning, who the night before had been attacked by 
banditti, stripped of his clothing, and dreadfully wounded. 
There has been much discussion about this sufferer, 
whether he was a Samaritan, or a Jew. A Jew he cer- 
tainly was; but Jesus says nothing about his country. 
He was a man — something more than Jew or Samari- 
tan ; — a man. As he thus lay naked, mangled, filling the 
air with his moans, life ebbing away through the cruel 
gashes, a priest approached; but no sooner did he catch 
a sight of the piteous spectacle than he averted his 
looks, and hurried away. In vain do the wounds, the 
groans of this wretched victim appeal to his humanity; 
he turns away suddenly, quickens the pace of his horse, 
and passes by " on the other side." 

Jericho was the chief station of the priests. From 
this city they went up "in their courses," to Jerusalem 
to discharge their sacred functions. The language 
shows that this priest was returning; and we see how 
little influence his official sanctity exerted upon his heart. 
"By chance there came down a certain priest." Not by 
chance however in the common acceptation of the term. 
In these events of life which seem fortuitous, God 
is putting our characters to the test. And we see under 
his clerical vestments, what was the character of this 
man. But let us not waste our indignation upon him. 
The characters in this parable are portraits, and this 
portrait still finds its original in the world. This priest 
is the representative of the utterly selfish and heartless. 
And now in what light can we regard a man of this class 
without feeling that he ought to be placed upon an emi- 
nence of infamy, and that his picture cannot be charged 
with colors too dark and odious. 

Consider him for a moment with reference to God. 
"A Priest!" — and I make no doubt that in Jerusalem, 
while seen of men, he moved about in full canonicals, and, 
like another Judas Iscariot, whined most sanctimoni- 
ously about his great compassion for the poor and suffer- 



The Good Samaritan. 79 

ing; and had this miserable object been presented there, 
he would have won great eclat, and the populace would 
have been edified by a most hypocritical ostentation of 
mercy. But it is not when we are before the world that 
our true character comes out; it is when God alone sees 
us; and God is nobody to a thoroughly selfish man. 
The pharisees paraded the first table of the law on their 
phylacteries. But they never wrote the second table 
which requires love to man; and the very design of this 
parable was to expose the subterfuge of a lawyer who 
pretended that there was some doubt as to the word 
" neighbor," and to teach us that all professions of love 
to God are mere sheer, downright falsehood, if we have 
no love for our fellow men. " Whoso hath this world's 
goods, and seeth his brother have need and shutteth up 
his bowels from him, how dwelleth the love of God in 
him?" 

Nor is this all. Such a man sets himself, habitually 
and on principle, in diametrical opposition to the fixed, 
plain arrangements of God's providential government of 
this world. Look where we may, from the grains of dirt 
under our feet, up to the "majestical roof fretted with 
golden fires," we find that cohesion is the law of this 
planet. Through the entire range of creation nothing is 
insulated. Every particle of matter has affinities to 
other particles. Especially are human beings dependent 
on each other for mutual assistance. While God direct- 
ly caters for the sparrow, and clothes the lilies, and 
feeds the young lions who seek their meat from him, we 
are left to rely upon each other. Multitudes, indeed, are 
so destitute, so absolutely helpless that they must perish 
if they receive no support. This is the economy under 
which Ave are placed; and in it we perceive plainly that 
God means each of us to see a brother in every other 
human being, and that those who have earthly posses- 
sions shall be benefactors to those who have not. 

This is God's ordinance; but the selfish and hard- 
hearted subvert and despise this ordinance. They violate 
it constantly, systematically. They do more. They 
teach others to arraign the wisdom and love of God's 
administration. "He that oppresseththe poor reproach- 



80 Richard Fuller's bennoiis. 



eth his Maker." In this passage it is declared that he 
who refuses mercy to the poor, wrongs and oppresses 
him, and that he causes men to upbraid God's providen- 
tial government with injustice, and we know, in fact, that 
no infidel or atheist can do half as much to diffuse impi- 
ety and atheism; especially if this sordid wretch be a 
professed Christian. 

I will only add that the whole life and character of him 
who refuses to succor the poor, proclaim a settled con- 
tempt for the plainest precepts of the Bible. Are you 
rich? "Charge them that are rich in this world that 
they do good, that they be rich in good works, ready to 
distribute, willing to communicate." Are you poor? "I 
have shewed you all things, how that so laboring we 
ought to support the weak, and to remember the words 
of the Lord Jesus, how he said, It is more blessed to give 
than to receive." It was the poverty of the widow which 
made her mite a richer donation than the liberal offerings 
of the wealthy; and of the Corinthians it is recorded 
that "their deep poverty abounded unto the riches of 
their liberality." Does conscience tell you that you have 
at any time thriven in your business by concealment and 
fraud ? Let him that stole, steal no more, but rather let 
him labor, working with his hands the thing which is 
good, that he may have to give to him that needeth." — 
Are you praying and striving after holiness ? " Give alms 
of such things as ye have, and behold all things are clean 
unto you." Are you tempted to overlook the urgency of 
the wants of those who apply to you for help? "Say 
not to thy neighbor, Go and come again, when thou hast 
it by thee." l)o you last or pray ? " Is not this the fast 
which I have chosen, that thou deal thy bread to the hun- 
gry, and when thou seest the naked that thou cover him, 
and hide not thyself from thine own flesh ?" " The an- 
gel said unto him, Thy prayers and thine alms are come 
up as a memorial before God." Is it your desire to have 
this testimony that you please God ? "To do good and 
to communicate forget not, for with such sacrifices God 
is well pleased." Would you secure heavenly consolations 
for those hours when yours shall be the shattered health, 
and the hollow cough, when wearisome nights shall be 



The Good Samaritan, 81 

appointed unto you, and days of languor and wasting 
disease? " Blessed is be that considereth the poor, the 
Lord will deliver him in time of trouble; the Lord will 
strengthen him upon the bed of languishing; thou wilt 
make all his bud in his sickness.*' In short, would you 
lay up treasures in heaven?" "Sell that thou hast and 
give unto the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven." 
'•Make to yourselves friends of the mammon of unright- 
ousness ; that when ye fail they may receive you into ever- 
lasting habitations." Passages like these could be multi- 
plied indefinitely; but all these admonitions, counsels, 
plain solemn commands, the man before us despises, de- 
fies, tramples under foot. 

Considered, then, with reference to the Being whom 
we ought to glorify in all our actions, you see the cool 
atrocity of the conduct portrayed in this part of the par- 
able. And do not pass this truth hastily, and without 
reflecting on the real character of that selfishness which 
Jesus here exposes. For my part; the more T analyze it, 
the more clearly do I perceive that selfishness is the 
essence of all sin in men and devils. A selfish man dis- 
cards the will of God which is the only safeguard to the 
peace, order, happiness of the universe, and resolves that 
his own will shall predominate. If unrestrained, he 
would immolate the whole world to his cupidity. Nay, 
as only one supremely selfish being could ever be gratified, 
he would, if it were possible, seek to make all worlds 
tributary to his lust for dominion. Xor would he be 
satisfied with even this. His inordinate spirit would aim 
at the throne of Jehovah himself, and be restless until 
not only the creation but the Creator were subjected to 
his insane ambition. 

Having examined the character of the selfish and heart- 
less man in the relation he sustains towards God, let us 
now view it in another aspect, — with reference to his 
fellow men. In this view observe the unnaturalness, the 
flagrant injustice of his conduct. 

Descended from a common parentage, involved in the 
same fall — like shipwrecked mariners cast upon a desert 
island, exposed to the same dangers and miseries — what 
monsters are we if no sympathy nor commiseration for each 



82 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

other touches our hearts. "And when he saw him lie 
passed by on the other side." Wretch! it is a brother's 
form which lies there naked and weltering in gore. Jt 
is a brother's eye which turns so imploringly to you. Jt 
is a brother's voice which pierces your ear. He sees, he 
hears, but turns his back and steels his soul against all. 
"He passed by on the other side;" but on what side could 
he pass, and so stop up the access and passage to mercy, 
that no compunctious visitings of nature might arrest 
•and soften him? 

And this conduct is as unjnstas it is unnatural — a truth 
this to which I ask your attention. Forthosewhoharden 
their hearts against the claims of charity generally pique 
themselves upon their honesty, their high sense of honor, 
while at the tribunal of impartial equity, they are guilty 
of the grossest injustice. 

Injustice, because when possessions exceeding our real 
necessities are multiplied in our hands, we are bound to 
regard them as deposits made by God, to whom all things 
belono- and who thus constitutes us his stewards and 
almoners. 

Injustice, because poverty is notan accident; it is God's 
appointment. "The poor shall not cease out of the land;" 
this is a prophecy which ever has been and ever shall 
be fulfilled in every age and nation. " The poor ye have 
always with you." Whenever and wherever men are 
gathered together in communities, cities, villages, the 
declaration will hold good, that "the rich and the poor 
meet together, and the Lord is the maker of them all." 
And in this unequal distribution of earthly allotments, 
we see clearly that those who hold a surplus of worldly 
goods, hold them in trust for those who are destitute; 
and that society is based upon this implied compact. 

There was room enough in the universe for God to 
create and place us apart from each other in separate and 
selfish isolation ; but he has ordained asocial destination 
which causes us to touch each other, to be knit closely 
to each other. And in making poverty one of the ele- 
ments of society, he designs that the noblest charities of 
our nature shall have full scope, and that Ave shall thus 
resemble him as angels cannot, in the divine prerogative 
of imparting beneficence to the needy and afflicted. 



The (Uiod Samaritan. < s; 5 

And so solemn is this obligation, so crying and decisive 
a test of character is our conduct as to this duty, that in 
the programme of the last judgment furnished by Jesus, 
we find the single inquest will be upon this specification. 
If it then appears that we pitied, visited, relieved the 
poor, the Judge will say, "Come ye blessed of my Father." 
Hut if we have been perfidious to the trust committed to 
us, if we have imbezzled the sums invested with us for 
the poor and suffering, if we did not feel for them and 
succor them, woe unto us. Vainly shall we then plead 
our faith, and prayers, and zeal for religion. Do you 
suppose that this priest did not make long prayers, and 
profess great faith, and glow with zeal for his creed? 
Our piety will then be exposed in its true colors, as the 
religion of a mercenary spirit, which after making riches 
its idol here, hopes, by a few cheap observances, by an 
orthodoxy that costs nothing, that flatters and pampers 
its reigning covetousness, to secure riches in heaven. 

I have thus spoken of the priest and the class he rep- 
resents, and you feel how detestable is the character here 
portrayed by the Saviour. Indeed, my brethren, only 
suppose a community entirely composed of such mem- 
bers. Suppose that each should seek to satisfy only his 
own wants; that each should stand aloof in lonely, 
repulsive misanthropy; that each should view the miser- 
ies of others with cold indifference, if not with secret 
complacency; that each (for sellishness stops at nothing; 
it will not only abandon the wounded man, but will 
search his pockets to see if anything is left) should prac- 
tice the infernal art of turning to advantage a brother's 
misfortunes — availing himself of a brother's calamities to 
extort from him exorbitant, oppressive, barbarous profits. 
The bare supposition of a community like this shocks 
and revolts our nature; yet such would be society, if its 
members all resembled this priest. If all were like him, 
it were far better to dwell in deserts than in the abodes 
of men; no ties would then bind human beings together, 
but those of avarice, envy, rapacity; and pestilence, fam- 
ine, war could add but little horror to the universal, pro- 
lilic blight and curse resting upon the earth. 

The priest; — the selfish and heartless. And such 



84 Richard Fuller's Sermons, 

characters are not only found among us in this city, but 
are treated with respect. Money purchases for them an 
homage which T would much rather give to the wolf and 
the hyena. Since God made them, we must let them 
pass for men. But I utter simply what I feel when I say, 
that such men ought not to be permitted to live in any 
civilized community. When I consider how plainly we 
were formed for mutual affection and aid ; how — from 
the moment when an infant is folded in the arms of love, 
to that in which the soothing ministries of friendship 
raise the dying head and wipe the cold damps of death 
from the throbbing brow — we crave and must have each 
other's sympathies ; and that the human race would be- 
come extinct, if all had the heart of these monsters ; I do 
not hesitate to affirm that such miscreants ought to be 
driven forth from the habitations of men, and be banished 
to the haunts of wild beasts, their proper, congenial asso- 
ciates. 

II. From the class who find their type in the priest, 
let us now pass to the second class, who are condemned 
in the parable; those represented by the Levite; people 
who concur warmly with us while we denounce the un- 
feeling and inhuman, yet practically imitate them ; and 
who — though far less odious in the sight of men — are 
almost as criminal in the eye of God. 

At first it may perhaps seem to you that there was real- 
ly no difference between the priest and the Levite; but 
the narrative presents traits which clearly distinguish 
them from each other. The priest no sooner saw the 
disfigured form and oozing blood, than instantly he hur- 
ried away. The Levite, says the Saviour, " when he was 
at the place came and looked on him." The sight of 
such misery causes him to approach. He is touched; his 
better feelings have triumphed ; he is about to alight and 
minister to the wretched victim of midnight assassins* — 
Suddenly, however, he checks himself. Some counter- 
thought, some plea, some prudential reflection, some pre- 
caution occurs to his mind. Whatever the reason, he 
does nothing; all his benevolence is chilled, and he, too, 
turns away and passes by on the other side. 



The Good Samaritan. 85 



In sensibility and pity the Levite, then, was superior 
to the priest; but only in these; and 1 fear the class he 
represents is a large class, and that too many in all our 
churches, too many in the present audience belong to it. 

Who, indeed, is ignorant of what generally takes place 
on occasions like this? Who ever pleaded such a cause 
as that which now appeals to your hearts, without being 
conscious that he has but one thing to fear? My beloved 
hearers, let me speak plainly to you. After nearly eigh- 
teen years constant intercourse with you, in the pulpit, 
and out of it, 1 ought to know you well ; and I do not mean 
to flatter you when I express my entire conviction that there 
is not one here who resembles the priest. But the Le- 
vite, — feelings, commiseration, sympathy, all evaporating 
in pretexts — do not too many of you bear a very striking 
likeness to the Levite ? 

At the judgment, it seems, there will not be a single 
excuse offered ; the only answer will be, "Lord, when ? ? ' 
" Lord, where ?" Now, however, no charity can be pre- 
sented, but all begin to make excuses — excuses advanced 
with confidence, and which, therefore, lidelity to your 
souls, as well as to the cause T am advocating, requires 
me to examine, that we may see what they are really 
worth. 

I am to examine the pleas most commonly urged, and 
I take, first, that of inability; — a plea which we hear 
every day, and from almost everybody; and yet which I 
venture to say none of us will dare to mention before the 
bar of God. 

For, my friends, might I not appeal to your candor, 
whether you make this reply to the solicitations of pleas- 
ure and fashion, of your appetites and passions? whether 
your inability has caused you to retrench the expenses of 
your dress, your table, your carnal indulgences? Might 
I not inquire whether others, less able than you are, do 
nor contribute constantly and cheerfully to the interests 
of humanity? And there is another question which I 
ought to submit to vou. If I do not. it is because I am 
anxious to propitiate your good wishes and liberality to- 
day, and I remember Solomon's remark, that "the poor 
useth entreaty, but the rich answereth roughly." 1 know 

4 



86 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

too well how ready we all are to take offence at a beggar, 
unless he speak with bated breath and whispering hum- 
bleness, and to find in fr.s want of obsequiousness, a rea- 
son for rejecting his suit. I do not therefore ask you, but 
you ought to ask yourself, Why it is, that you are so poor 
only on occasions like the present? At all other times 
you are unwilling to be regarded as in such straitened cir- 
cumstances; you magnify your property ; and by a certain 
air and manner, you wish to impose upon the world by 
representing yourself as worth much more than you 
really possess. How is it that you have so little only 
when solicited by the calls of charity ? 

But passing these and similar questions, as unbecom- 
ing me now, let me beseech you to weigh this excuse in 
the balances of impartial truth. Conceding this plea of 
inability to some, are you among them ? Is it a fact that 
you have barely enough for your subsistence ? If situa- 
tions were reversed, and you were suffering from want, 
would you consider this plea as proper from one in your 
present circumstances ? In fine, you are unable to give, 
you have " nothing over and above." But over and above 
what ? Your real wants ? or your pleasures? your irreg- 
ular desires? the cravings of your passions? your undue 
conformity to the world ? your inordnate love of accu- 
mulation ? in a word, your sins? These are points upon 
which I may question you without exciting your displeas- 
ure. At least they are matters about which God will one 
day bring you to a strict reckoning, whether it pleases you 
or not. 

"Well, well, I admit all you say. I have something 
more than a mere sufficiency for the present, but what 
then? Am I not right in securing myself against the 
future? At least is it not my duty to make some pro- 
vision for my children ? This is your second plea; but 
what a plea? especially what a plea from the lips of a 
Christian? 

For if the possibility of future casualties releases us 
from the duty of charity, who is bound to give? Are 
not all liable to calamities? Were not the priest and 
Levite, travelling on the very road so infested by robbers, 
exposed to danger? 



The Good Samaritan. 87 



Moreover, whatever our precautions, God alone ran 
preserve ns from the day of adversity. Many may say, 
\\ e do not want; but in all the earth there is only one 
man who can say "I shall not want." It is lie who 

knows that the Lord is his shepherd. Now if God alone 
can avert the evils we dread, is it wise to provoke him by 
violating the plainest duty ? We are commanded to 
" honor the Lord with our substance," and are assured 
that "he who giveth to the poor Jendeth to the Lord;" 
can we do better against any possible emergency, than to 
invest with God upon these invitations and promises?— 
And after all, what does God demand of us? Does he 
say to us, as Jesus did to the rich nobleman, "Sell all 
that thou hast, and give to the poor ?" He requires only 
some inconsiderable portion of your means ; and you re- 
fuse this on the pretext, that you may meet with some 
disaster at a future day. 

But ought I not to make some provision for mv chil- 
dren? and thus to protect them from the humiliations 
and miseries and temptations of dependence? Be it so. 
I acquiesce. Is this, however, all your desire? No. You 
are toiling to bequeath wealth to your children. This is 
your ambition, an ambition that will increase with your 
possessions. For, let avarice take this form, and it is an 
insatiable, incurable passion. Disguised, consecrated as 
parental love, it will at once be an absorbing lust, and 
stifle every benevolent feeling in your bosoms; its domin- 
ion will become more inexorable with advancing years; 
and death will find you scheming, laboring, engrossed 
with anxious cares, hardening your heart against every 
appeal of charity, that you may entail upon your off- 
spring riches which will almost certainly be a curse to 
them, exempting them from the necessity of self-reliance 
and industry, filling them with pride, vanity, an insane 
independence of God, nourishing effeminacy, sensuality, 
irreligion, and delivering them up as victims to the un- 
searchable seductions of pernicious associations. Ts this 
your affection for your children? Would it not be a 
lai- better provision, to secure for them the favor of that 
Being who will watch over them when you are o- one ? 
"I have been young," says the Psalmist, "and now am 



88 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

old, yet have I not seen the righteous forsaken, nor his 
seed begging bread." Why not? We are informed in the 
next verse. "He is ever merciful and lendeth, and his 
seed is blessed." 

But the great number of these applications; — this is 
your third plea. And I might dispose of this in a very 
summary way, by simply replying, What then ? Is this 
a reason why you should give to none of these objects? — 
Ah, what would become of you, if God should act thus? 
if he should exclude you, because such multitudes cry 
unto him daily ? or if he should be weary of the "con- 
tinual coming" with which you have to supplicate his 
compassion, and refuse any longer to hear you? 

This, however, is not the only, nor the true answer to 
this excuse. To expose it, we must consider what it 
supposes. It really assumes that you have already given 
all which you ought to give; but are you prepared to 
affirm this ? Make the calculation, and decide this mat- 
ter for yoursel f. In the first place, deduct those dona- 
tions, which cannot, by any self-deception, be styled 
charity; those I mean which were only bids for public 
applause, or in which love, obedience to God was not the 
motive. Strike out all these, then take what remains 
and measure it by the standard of the Bible. Compare it 
with the libeiv.lity of the first Christians, who gave all 
they possessed for the support of the indigent. 

Or, if you regard their conduct as a holy excess, which 
I grant it was, — compare your contributions with a stand- 
ard to which you cannot object, that, namely, which was 
prescribed to the Jews, from whom God exacted a tariff 
for religious purposes, amounting in the aggregate to 
one-third of their annual income. Judged by this divine 
regulation, how does this plea appear ? 

I am well aware, my brethren, that the Gospel does not 
prescribe any such rule, any rule at all for us ; but it is 
for a reason which ought to inflame our souls and con- 
strain us to the noblest munificence. Before the sacrifice 
on Calvary, (rod was exact, he arranged everything, en- 
forced everything as to the sums to be given in behalf of 
religion' and benevolence. Since that amazing deed of 
love, he makes no rules, he enjoins no amounts, he seems 



The Good Samaritan. 89 

to regard it as unworthy of Christians that any sum 
should be assessed upon them, he simply points to the 
cross and says, "Ye know the grace of the Lord Jesus 
Christ, that though lie was rich, yet for your sakes he 
became poor, that ye through his poverty might be rich," 
and he leaves it to our own hearts to impose the law of 
love which has superseded the law of compulsion, and to 
prescribe the limits to our charity. 

Yes, all is now confided to our hearts. Jesus leaves it 
to our gratitude to determine the measure of our liberal- 
ity. Can we abuse this confidence, and in the multiplied 
wants and miseries of our race, find a motive for our 
covetousness ? 

After all, however, where there are so many solicita- 
tions, are we not bound to be prudent in the bestowal of 
our charities ? and to discriminate carefully between ob- 
jects so numerous? Unquestionably. I fully concur in 
this view. In fact, it is upon this very argument that I 
rest the claims of the Society which solicits your contri- 
butions. I wHl not, therefore, consider it separately, but, 
uniting it with our last article, i will abridge the discus- 
sion and so finish this discourse. 

III. Yes, my hearers, when you appeal to me, whether 
there is not great danger of imposition, and if it be not 
our duty to distinguish cautiously between the different 
objects which are presented, 1 answer, Certainly; and be- 
hold the simplest of all issues upon which I am willing 
to leave the case I am advocating. You all know the 
members of this benevolent association, you are well ac- 
quainted with these Christian women. If now you be- 
lieve them capable of any deception but no, I will 

not insult them, nor offend you, by the supposition; — 
if, however, you believe them wanting in judgment and 
diligence, if you really fear that they will misapply your 
liberalities, if, in a word, you do not regard them as en- 
tirely qualified to be the almoners of your bounty; — then 
reject the suit 1 am urging; do more, rise up and 
pronounce their condemnation. But you will not, can- 
not do this. These ladies have your full, unbounded 
confidence; and, as I said, I might safely rest the cause 



90 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 



here, not doubting that you will, by your conduct, assure 
them not only of your esteem, but of your cordial appro- 
bation. 

I feel, however, that to leave the cause here will not 
be doing it justice ; it would be to place it only on a foot- 
ing with many other noble enterprises; whereas I venture 
to affirm that few charities combine so many excellences; 
at least it is certain that none can correspond more exact- 
ly to all the qualities of that benevolence which the Sa- 
viour here so strongly recommends ; as to which he says 
to each of us, "Go thou, and do likewise." 

For what is the lirst trait in the charity of the Samar- 
itan? It is Disinterestedness. His kindness was to a 
stranger; one whom he had probably never seen before, 
and who had upon him no other claim than that he was 
a man and a sufferer. And to-day you are invited to im- 
itate him in this quality of mercy. Your generous aid is 
sought for those whom you do not know — f jr the poor, the 
aged, the diseased, the wretched sons and daughters of 
affliction and want, pining in comfortless abodes, shiver- 
ing with cold, stretched upon beds of languishing. 

What is the next trait in the charity of the Samaritan? 
It is its catholic spirit. Too often our donations only 
prove our sectarian zeal; and are offered, not under the 
influence of our love to Jesus and humanity , but under 
the influence of party prejudice or pride. In the parable 
Jesus designs especially to guard against this spirit. 
Hence he selects a Samaritan — one of a people hated by 
the Jews for their heresies— as the benefactor of the 
wounded Jew. And here again this enterprise breathes 
the very love which Jesus commends. In their visits 
and deeds of mercy, these ladies know nothing of sects or 
parties. Enough for them that human beings are in dis- 
tress; and that they can minister to their wants, and, by 
prayer and counsel, can lead them to Jesus and salvation. 

The third characteristic of the Samaritan's charity, 
which Jesus enjoins and I beseech you to copy, is its gen- 
erosity. Upon this point Paul uses a phrase full of 
meaning,! had almost said, of irony. He speaks of a 
giving which is a matter of " covetousness ; " and we see 
the force of his remark. A man who refuses to give may 



The Good Samaritan. 91 

be a liberal man who does not approve of the cause; but 
by giving, a man acknowledges the excellence of the 
object; and if the sum contributed be grossly dispropor- 
tioned to his means, he gives the strongest proof of the 
mean love of filthy lucre which stifles all noble feelings 
in his bosom. Measured by the Saviour's rule in the 
case of the widow and her mite, the conduct of the 
Samaritan was munificent. For though on a journey, 
he stops; he pours into the wounds the oil and wine pro- 
vided for his own use; he sets the wounded man upon 
his beast, and, walking by his side, carries him to the 
nearest inn, where he remains all that day and night 
nursing him. Nor does this satisfy him. He leaves a 
sum of money — probably all he had, with the host; — 
and, bidding him to take care of his guest, he pledges 
himself, without stint, to repay any expenses incurred 
for his relief and comfort. 

I will only add, that the charity of the Samaritan was 
as prompt, as it was disinterested and generous. Many 
feel for the poor and suffering, and mean to succor them; 
but they delay the remedy until the patient, dies. With 
them evil is wrought, not by want of heart, but of 
thought. What a contrast in the active beneficence here 
commended ; for, though it was most inconvenient, the 
heart of the Samaritan would defer nothing; he acts at 
once. And if ever it was true, that he who delays refuses, 
while he gives twice who gives quickly, it is so to-day ; 
for this noble work of mercy must cease, unless it be at 
once and liberally patronized. 

My friends, this last thought is so important, that I 
desire to leave it impressed upon your minds. I am 
aware that rich men, who do very little during life, 
sometimes make some reparation in a dying hour; and 
of course, charitable legacies are to be commended. But 
in every view it is far better to be our own executors 
of such bounties. I. repeat that I admire those bequests 
which are made for purposes of benevolence, and I blush 
as I think that men of the world, even infidels, have, by 
such acts, caused thousands to bless their memories, 
while professed Christians so often cling, even on their 
death- beds, to that lust which starves the soul here, and 



92 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

damns it in eternity. After all, however, there is gener- 
ally something suspicions in this tardy, posthumous 
charity. A man devotes his "whole life to the acquisi- 
sition of money, hoarding it with sordid avarice; and 
yields to the painful necessity of parting with a portion 
of it, only when death violently relaxes his gripe upon all. 
If this ue charity, what is covetousness ? Such w man virt u- 
aily confesses thai his heart is as base as ever, that were it 
possible, he would still he as grasping as ever. No it is not 
charity he feels, it is only a craven terror which extorts a 
reluctant sacrifice. Or rather, it is the same low, mer- 
cenary ruling passion of his life, which now, when he 
can no longer speculate and invest upon earth, seeks to 
speculate and invest in heaven. 

How much wiser, happier he who, by cheerful, gener- 
ous giving, enlarges his own soul, elevates his own char- 
acter; and, by habitual deeds of mercy bestowed out of a 
heart glowing with gratitude to Jesus and love to man- 
kind, provides for himself "treasure in the heavens which 
faileth not, where no thief approacheth, nor moth cor- 
rupteth," secures the fulfillment of (hat promise, "They 
cannot recompense thee, but thou shall be recompensed 
at the resurrection of the just." lie transported his 
fortune to heaven and has gone there to enjoy it" This 
was the noble epitaph written upon the tomb of Atolus 
of liheims. What a contrast between such a tine eulo- 
gium and the comments, may I not say the satires, we 
every day hear at the funerals of our rich men — some of 
them Christian men, so called. 

"He left a large fortune" He left it, How melan- 
choly that he had to leave it. lie toiled for it day and 
night, He amassed it from the smallest begin- 
nings, and by the severest thrift. It was all his 
care and thought. He loved it and he loved to 
increase it, It was hard to part with it; but he has 
gone. He sent none of it before him by his charities. 
He carried none of it with him. He left it all. lie 
might have acted more wisely, might- have remitted large 
sums before him to enrich him on hisarrival. Over and 
over, had the invitations and promises of God been 
urged upon his attention. "Blessed are the merciful, for 



The Goo I Sama/ritan. 93 



they shall receive mercy." "Give and it shall be given 
unto you, good measure, pressed down, and running 
over. " Whoso stoppeth his ears al the cry of the poor, 
he shall cry himself and nol be heard." These and sim- 
ilar truths he well knew, and every day opportunities 
were offered him to lay up enduring riches, to become 
rich toward God." Bui he was absorbed in laying up 
treasure on earth. And he has been compelled to leave 
it and go into eternity, like Dives, too poor to buy a drop 
of cold water to cool his parched tongue. 

Hut I will not detain vou longer. I leave the case 
with you. That you will give, I have no doubt. This, 
however, does nol satisfy me; for the winter is already 
upon us with almost unprecedented severity, and the 
funds of the Society are entirely exhausted. Unless, 
therefore, the sums you contribute exceed those usually 
received on occasions like this, we shall be compelled 
to appeal to you again. And though this -night not 
weary you, it would be most painful to us. Relieve us 
from such a necessity. Terminate our importunity, by 
terminating our wants. 

Let the response you give to our petition be such as 
these noble women have a right to expect. Toil, 
fatigue, exposure, care, pain they arc ready to welcome. 
They look to you to bid them God-speeu, and to give 
them such an out tit as shall enable them to go as angels of 
mercy to tiie hovels of the destitute and wretched. Let 
your liberality be worthy of such a cause. Let it be 
worthy of yourselves, of all I have known of you from 
the moment 1 became your pastor. Let it be such as 
becomes this sanctuary. It was with reason that the 
cripple was laid at the gate of the temple to ask alms; 
for, entering there to supplicate God's mercy, their 
prayers taught all who passed to render deeds of mercy. 
To-day the poor, the aged, the sick, the halt, the blind, 
lie not at the gate, but in the temple itself. To-day this 
sanctuary is converted into an almshouse. Through 
their representatives these miserable objects of compas- 
sion Stretch out their hands to you ; and .Jesus, putting 
them in his place, says, "The poor ye have always with 

you." "Inasmuch as ye do it unto them, ye do it unto 

4* 



94 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

me." Who can refuse anything to such an appeal, pre- 
sented in such a place? 

Lastly — death, and the judgment after death; give in 
view of these. When death shall be closing your eyes 
to all earthly things, of how little real profit will appear 
all you have gained, and spent, and laid up for yourself; 
what ineffable consolation in remembering anything: done 
for Christ and for the cause of humanity. When Elliott, 
the missionary, was dying he said, "Charity never fail- 
eth ; my strength fails me, my sight fails me, my life 
fails me ; but the charities which the grace of God led 
me to give failed me not." And Baxter, on his dying 
bed, quoted that remark and added, "Such, too, is my 
experience now. J have laboured much, I have written 
much, 1 have preached much; but I cannot think of 
these. It is only the charity I have given which I can 
recall with pleasure, with thankfulness to God." What 
touching commentaries these upon that promise, 
"Blessed is he that considereth the poor, the Lord will 
deliver him in time of trouble, the Lord will strengthen 
him upon the bed of languishing; thou wilt make all 
his bed in his sickness." 

My dearly beloved brethren and friends, let us so act 
to-day, and in all our future lives, that we may lay up 
in store for our dying chambers these peaceful recollec- 
tions, these divine supports, these heavenly consolations. 
Let us do more. Let us so act to-day, and in all our 
future lives, that when the great white throne shall be 
spread, and before the gathered multitudes around that 
throne, the Judge shall say to us, Inasmuch as ye did it 
unto these, ye did it unto me. I was a hungered, and 
ye gave me meat; I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink; 
I was a stranger, and ye took me in ; naked and ye clothed 
me; I was sick and ye visited me; 1 was in prison, and 
ye came unto me. Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit 
the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of 
the world. 

May God grant us grace thus to act and live. May he 
thus crown the deeds his grace inclined and enabled us 
to perform. To Him be honor, and glory, and majesty, 
forever. Amen. 



}\'//(t/ mill )'<>u <lo /i'il// Jesus / 95 



.Sbrrmou &irtfi» 



WHAT WILL YOU DO WITH 

JESUS ? 

"What shall I do then with Jesus?"— Matthew xxvii: 22. 

YOU are familiar with the occasion of this question. 
Jesus stood before the Roman governor, and before 
the priests and the people as one who had attracted uni- 
versal attention, who had asserted his title to the highest 
honors, even those which are the peculiar prerogative of 
Deity. For thus making himself equal with God, he had 
been arrested, and Pilate must make some disposition of 
his case. He wishes to discharge him, declaring that 
neither Herod nor himself could find any fault in. him. 
The popular voice, however, demands his crucifixion. 

As it was customary to liberate some prisoner at the 
paschal feast, the Roman governor proposes to release 
Jesus; but the chief priests (when was there ever a per- 
secution except at the instigation of priests ?) "persuaded 
the multitude that they should ask Barabbas and destroy 
Jesus." In this dilemma, Pilate proposes the question I 
have read as our text, " What shall I do then with Jesus?" 

Men and brethren, the hour hastens on when Jesus 
will have to do with each of us at his awful tribunal. — 
u We must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ." 
"Behold he comet h with clouds; and every eye shall see 
him, and they also which pierced him; and all the kin- 
dreds of the earth shall wail because of him." I do not 
wonderthat, in view of the solemn retributions of that 
hour, Paul, praying for his beloved Onesiphorus, forgets 
everything else and exclaims, " The Lord grant that he 
may find mercy of the Lord in that day." In that day 



96 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

what will Jesus do with us ? Nor need we be at a loss to 
answer this enquiry; for the decision then is suspended 
upon the practical reply we give to the question now sub- 
mitted to each of us, What are you doing, what will you 
do with Jesus ? 

I. I have said that Jesus stood before the governor and 
the Jews as one who had attracted universal attention; 
and thus he stands before us. "Behold the man !" ex- 
claimed Pilate. For eighteen centuries the world has 
been beholding the man. For eighteen centuries he has 
been the object of the profoundest interest to human 
minds and hearts. For nearly eighteen centuries he has 
been the centre and source of the most potent influences 
which have disturbed, agitated, upheaved society. Of 
these influences, all that can be properly ascribed to 
him have been most benignant. They have banished 
idolatry, barbarism, cruelty, vice, misery ; and have dif- 
fused light, hope, peace, purity, happiness. And those 
baleful influences which have been unjustly imputed to 
him, (for we have too much cause to exclaim, Religion ! 
what crimes have been perpetrated in thy name! ) — these 
proclaim with almost greater emphasis, how vast, how 
resistless is the power he sways over the world. 

Now here is a remarkable fact, what will you do with 
it ? This fact is, that more than eighteen hundred years 
ago, there appeared on the platform of human affairs a 
Being who, as to his outward conditions was a poor, ob- 
scure, unlettered Hebrew youth; that his whole life, — 
thoughts, words, actions, — was a mysterious exception to 
the laws which prevail among the children of men ; that 
he was not only sinless by tiie confession of his enemies 
who closely watched him and by the testimony of his 
friends avIio were, constantly with him, but that his char- 
acter and doctrines placed him unapproachably above all 
who ever bore our humanity; that his ministry was very 
brief — only three years; that, though he devoted himself 
constantly to "doing good," the world could not endure 
him, hated him, murdered him; that in all succeeding 
ages his influence has not only mingled in the concerns 
of humanity, but has been their grand controlling ele- 
ment. This is the fact, what will you do with it? 



What will You do with Jesus f 07 



You must do something with it. You cannot get rid 
of it. It meets the historian in all his researches. When 
lie explores the literature, laws, customs, morals of civi- 
lized nations, lie discovers great diversities; they are 
modified by climate, by hereditary prejudices, by venera- 
tion for ancestral sanctities, by differences in forms of 
government; but this great fact pervades them all. So 
it is, somehow or other so it has gor, to be, that Jesus is 
found penetrating the library in which the scholar trims 
his midnight lamp, the studio where the artist spreads 
his canvass or moulds the plastic marble, and giving tone 
and character to their compositions; that he invades sen- 
ate chambers and halls of legislation, and frames the 
statutes enacted there; that he presides in courts of just- 
ice, and shapes their decisions; that he dictates in cabi- 
nets and prescribes decrees to kings and emperors; that 
he enters palaces and hovels, and impresses himself upon 
the habits and conduct of rulers, nations, peoples every- 
where. 

And what the historian detects in his investigations 
we all feel. Even those who reject the saving efficacy of 
the Gospel, who have no hope of gaining its eternal re- 
wards, at once, almost unconsciously confess that the 
principles of the Gospel ought co govern men in their 
lives; just as the mariner who never expects to possess 
the North Star, knows that he must guide his vessel by 
its light. The moralist admits that they are the only 
foundation of virtue; the statesman, that they are the 
only basis of national prosperity and safety; and princes 
and potentates — though wicked men — appeal to these 
principles as the highest law, as the law of all laws, as 
final and conclusive with reference to all the enterprises, 
reformations, revolutions they undertake. 

Xow here is a marvellous thing, a most striking phe- 
nomenon, what will you do with it? how can you explain 
it? As Pilate had to dispose of Jesus in some way, so 
we have to dispose of this singular anomaly. At this 
day it is too late to say that you will do nothing with it. 
You must have to do with it. For this is no trifle, it is 
a matter of infinite, urgent importance, and it pursues 
you, compasses you, confronts you everywhere witii inex- 
orable earnestness and importunity. 



98 Richard Fuller s Sermons. 



If you return to your homes, Jesus is there, meddling 
with everything dearest to your heart ; he is in the old 
family Bible on the stand ; he is in the hymn book on 
your table; he is in the volumes ranged along } r our li- 
brary; he is in the nursery among your children ; your 
aged mother speaks to you of Jesus, and tells you what 
he has been to her during her long pilgrimage ; your wife 
falls at the feet of Jesus and loves and worships him; 
even the infant at your knees lisps the name of Jesus and 
clasps its little hands in prayer to him. Indeed you 
would be shocked if Jesns were not in your house, shed- 
ding his influence there. If you visit the schools where 
the intellectual, social, moral character of your family is 
forming, Jesus is there. If you repair to places of busi- 
ness — whatever may be the secret turnings, windings, 
shiftings of their practical negotiations, all men agree 
that their transactions ought to be regulated by his laws. 
And then Sabbaths, and churches, and pulpits, and 
Sunday schools and every benevolent association, and 
every charitable institution — in all these Jesus encoun- 
ters you, meets you as the pervading, animating soul of 
all. How do you account for this? How has he come 
to be thus blended in all our pursuits, interests, joys, 
sorrows, hopes ? There is no law of the land conferring 
this sovereignty upon him; yet here he is before us, 
around us, within us exerting this sovereignty, and none 
durst ask him, Who art thou ? whence hast thou this 
power? who gave thee this authority? We feel his power, 
we acquiesce in it instinctively and of course. 

I am well aware that, at remote intervals, some mere 
human actor on the stage of the world has, for a little 
brief season, drawn upon himself the eyes of men, and 
engaged their admiration and homage ; but these honors 
have been rendered by only a limited portion of mankind, 
and they can be easily explained. They have been won 
by exalted position, or by surpassing genius, or by armies 
and fleets, by victories whose splendor has for a while 
dazzled the bleared vision of fallen depraved humanity. 

Just the reverse of all this is true as to the supremacy 
of Jesus. All observation shows that, if a man of tran- 
scendent power arise in one nation, other nations 



What will You do with Jesus? 99 



immediately begin to regard his movements with 
jealousy; and by diplomacy, by detraction, by war, they 
seek to cripple his influence, — shrewdly suspecting— nay 
knowing certainly, that such greatness is sure to foster a 
restless and dangerous ambition. But all civilized nations 
cheerfully recognize the sovereignty of Jesus. As to him 
the only rivalry among princes is, who shall be styled 
the most Christian, and they vie with each other in 
blazoning upon their escutcheons, flags and banners, the 
emblems of their loyalty. 

And he has established this invisible throne with no 
earthly resources, with all human agencies banded against 
him. Without wealth, without arms, without intrigue 
or violence; with the wealth, the arms, the intrigue and 
violence of the whole world in deadly hostility to him, 
he has triumphed gloriously. The empires founded by 
Alexander, Charlemagne, Napoleon soon crumbled away, 
but in each succeeding age Jesus has been extending his 
kingdom. At this day he reigns in the hearts of millions 
who would die for him; and even where his spiritual 
sceptre is not acknowledged, with the exception of coun- 
tries still sunk in the darkness of paganism, the entire 
population of the earth confesses the imperial influence 
of him who is shaping the growing stature of the world, 
who, holiest among the mighty, and mightiest among the 
holy, hath, with his pierced hand hurled dynasties from 
their old foundations and is ruling the spirit of the 
ages. Such, indeed, is this tacit concession of his power, so 
commensurate with the progress of mankind, that in all 
classical vocabularies, Christianity and Civilization mean 
the same thing. 

I do not think that the advocates of the Gospel have 
availed themselves sufficiently of this argument. It is 
entirely unanswerable. Men may cavil and carp, but it 
will cost something more than a sneer to set aside this 
fact. Here it is, surrounding, pressing them like the 

atmosphere, and mocking to scorn all their shallow, ribald 
flippancies. It is on all hands admitted, that since the 
mysterious birth at Bethlehem a new moral power lias 
been at work, gradually but irresistibly vancpuishing op- 
position, and changing, elevating humanity. Since that 



100 Richard Fuller s Sermons. 

event the truth is that men have been inhabiting a new 
world. How are we to account for this fact? At first, 
when Jesus and his apostles began to assert his pre-eminent 
glory, I grant that the burden of proof was upon them. 
No one was bound to receive him until he had shown 
sufficient cause ; and the demand of the people was very- 
reasonable. "What signs show^st thou, then, that we 
may see and believe thee? What dost thou work?" 
But now the burden of proof is thrown upon the oppo- 
sers of the Gospel. They must explain how Jesus has 
achieved these triumphs. They have been eighteen 
hundred years trying to solve this problem, and confess 
that they have failed. 

Gamaliel well said, " If this counsel or this work be of 
man, it will come to nought." Has it came to nought? 
Is there one in this audience who will pretend that it 
Avas of men ? Not one. Not one. The very idea is 
preposterous. What, he, all whose doctrines assailed and 
condemned the most cherished passions and prejudices of 
every class, won this triumph by human devices; he who 
possessed no earthly resources, conquered by human con- 
trivances. No, and again, No. There is but one single 
way out of this dilemma, and the Jewish "doctor of the 
law " hit it when he added, " If it be of God, ye cannot 
overthrow it." The ancient oracle throws a flood of light 
upon the mysterious potency of this adorable Being. 
"Unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given, and the 
government shall be upon his shoulders, and his name 
shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, the Mighty God, 
the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace." Yes, Je- 
sus is the Christ, the great promised deliverer, " the De- 
sire of all nations," the predicted " seed of the woman''" 
who should bruise the serpent's head" — who has bruised 
and will go on bruising Satan under his feet. In the 
mind, the conscience, the heart the deepest and most 
crying wants of humanity, he was and is felt to be the 
light, the truth, the Good lost hut now recovered. And 
it this be so, what will you do then with Jesus ? guilt, 
madness worse than brutish to reject him. Are you ca- 
pable of this infatuation ? Will you, can you imitate the 
Jews and cry out, "Away with him, away with him, cru- 



]Yluif will Vou do villi Jesusl 101 



cify him, crucify him," and by your conduct mock him, 
and smite him. and spit upon him, and crucify to your- 
Belves the Son of God ami put him to an open shame? 

II. But, my brethren, when Pilate proposed the enquiry 
in our text, Jesus not only stood before the multitude as 
an object of universal attention, he was also a Being in- 
vested with every interest which can arrest and subdue 
the most obdurate soul. "Then came Jesus forth, wear- 
ing the crown of thorns and the purple robe. And Pilate 
said. " Behold the man." To day, not only this, amazing 
spectacle, but all the dismal tragedy which followed is 
repeated in our midst and before our eyes. And, now, 
what will you do with this injured, crucified Jesus? 

In making- this assertion do not think I am drawing 
upon your imaginations; I am only stating what the Bi- 
ble expressly declares. "0 foolish Galatians, who hath 
bewitched you, that you should not obey the truth 
before whose eyes Jesus Christ hath been evidently set 
forth crucified among you." What does the Holy Spirit 
teach us by this language? These Galatians lived at a 
distance from Jerusalem where the Saviour suffered, nor 
does the apostle refer at all to their presence at that 
scene. In whatever sense it was said to these Galatians, 
it may also be said to us, that "Jesus Christ hath been 
evidently set forth crucified among you;" for it is mani- 
fest that the declaration recognizes the ministry of the 
Gospel by preaching and by the ordinances, as effectually 
bringing us in contact with the great sacrifice for sin of- 
fered upon Calvary. 

I say the ministrations of the pulpit. By these "Jesus 
Christ is evidently set forth crucified among you." For 
the crucifixion and all its retinue of suffering and blood 
are truths, the great facts on which the entire Gospel 
hinges; and with which mere bodily presence and vision 
had nothing to do. If we believe them, they enter and 
remain in our minds, we are conversant with them as 
grand moral elements; nor could our convictions nor 
their power receive any accession from the aid of our 
senses. God who formed the physical organs to take in 
outward objects, has endowed us with faculties by which 



102 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 



we reason upon evidence and rest upon certainty. It is 
because preaching is God's ordinance that we "magnify 
our office" and venture to tell yon, that yon have no right 
to listen to Christ's ministers as to other speakers. — 
Supposing you to regard them as commissioned by heav- 
en, why then their messages are "not the words of man, 
but of God;" they "speak as the oracles of God." They 
may be enriched with glorious gifts, or may be destitute 
of the graces and eloquence of the orator; but the excel- 
lency of the treasure depends not at all upon the earth- 
en vessels which convey it. Paul renounced the arts of 
oratory, that the faith of his hearers should not "stand 
in the wisdom of men, but in the power of God." — 
Preaching is a divine ordinance. I have sometimes 
heard people say, We can read better sermons at home. 
I might ask such persons, whether tins is the cause of 
their absence from the sanctuary; and whether they spend 
their time reading these edifying discourses? whether he 
who has piety enough to enjoy spiritual exercises at home, 
has not too much piety to stay at home when God com- 
mands us "not to forsake the assembling of ourselves to- 
gether?" This, however, only by the way. What I 
would impress upon you is, that the living ministry is an 
ordinance of the Gospel; and as well therefore, may you 
neglect baptism under the pretence that you can bailie in 
purer water at home, or slight the supper because you have 
better bread and wine at home. Preaching is God's ordi- 
nance. But, now, what is the design of preaching? Itis to 
"set forth Christ crucified among you;" it is to deliver 
to you that which we "also received how that Christ 
died for our sins." Preaching is the divinely instituted 
appointment by which you are to be placed among those 
who thronged Pilate's judgment hall, to be carried to 
mount Calvary and there to have your gaze fixed upon 
that amazing altar, that bleeding victim. " I determined 
not to know anything among you, save Jesus Christ and 
him crucified" — this is the abridgment of all our doctrine. 
"Behold the Lamb of God who taketli away the si/i of the 
world,' 7 — there is the whole of our message. 

And the same great truth is proclaimed by the ordi- 
nances of the Gospel. One design of baptism is to keep 



What will You do witJi Jesusf 103 

before us the sacrificial death of the Redeemer. "Know 
ye not, that so many of us as were baptized into Jesus 
Christ, were baptized into his death? Therefore we are 
buried with him by baptism into death." And in the 
supper the consecrated memorials revive and perpetuate 
the agony of the cross with such energy and pathos, that 
it may be truly said to us, " Christ Jesus is evidently set 
forth crucified among you." 

To-day, then, this Jesus stands before you as he stood 
before Pilate and the people. To-day, your gaze is settled 
upon him as he hangs pale, and bleeding, expiring upon 
the cross. And turning upon you his dying eyes, he this 
day utters that touching invocation, "Is it nothing to you? 
Behold and see if there be any sorrow like unto that 
wherewith the Lord hath afflicted me in the day of his 
fierce anger." My friends, are you men? are you women? 
— and can your souls continue unmoved by such an ap- 
peal? It is no metaphor, it is a plain thing which the 
apostle affirms when he proposes the question, "Who 
hath bewitched you, that you should not obey the truth ?" 
For, supposing your minds to be rational, and the play 
of human feelings to be free in your bosoms, it is impos- 
sible that you should either discard an object so absorb- 
ing in interest, or that, if you admit it into your souls, 
you should not confess its strange, mysterious, transform- 
ing power. What will you do, then, with Jesus? "His 
blood be upon us and upon our children," exclaimed the 
infuriated populace. Will you adopt this horrible impre- 
cation? You shudder at the very thought. His blood 
be upon us and upon our children, not, however, to curse, 
but to bless, to purify, to save! — such is the Christian's 
prayer. What is yours ? How will you treat this ador- 
able Saviour ? What will you do with Jesus? — with 
this Lamb of God thus led to the slaughter for } T ou? 

III. A third enquiry is suggested by what I have just 
said; it refers to the mediatorial claims of Jesus. He 
suffered — stooped to poverty, to contempt, to bitter an- 
guish, to a death the very thought of which fills the im- 
agination with horror, to all the unknown agony of his 
soul — that he might establish these claims, "that he 



104 Richard Fidler's Sermons. 



might be Lord both of the dead and the living." What 
do you say to this demand? What will you do with Je- 
sus who now asserts his right to this lordship over you? 

Here again you must do something; you cannot evade 
the alternative of loyalty or disloyalty. Jesus himself 
declares there can be no neutrality. From the throne 
of God down to the nethermost hell, every moral being 
is cither honoring or resisting his demands. 

When he wr.s upon earth demons openly abjured him 
and his authority; they "cried out, saying, What 
have we to do with thee, Jesus thou Son of God?" 
And in all the gloomy regions of despair, devils and 
damned spirits gnash their teeth and blaspheme his 
name in impotent rage and hate. 

When heaven was opened to the seer on Patmos he 
heard all the abodes of glory resounding with the merits 
of this adorable Being. "Every creature which is in 
heaven heard I saying, Blessing and honor, and 
glory, and power, be unto him that sitteth upcn the 
throne, and unto the Lamb forever and ever." The 
Eternal Father delights to crown with glory the august 
victor over death and the powers of darkness. "Who 
being in the form of God, thought it not robbery to be 
equal with God, but made himself of no reputation, and 
took upon him the form of a servant, and was made in 
the likeness of men; and being found in fashion as a 
man, he humbled himself, and became obedient unto 
death, even the death of the cross. Wheforere God also 
hath highly exalted him, and given him a name which is 
above every name ; that at the name of Jesus, every knee 
should boAV, of things in heaven, and things in earth, and 
things under the earth, and that every tongue should 
confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the 
Father." " Unto the Son he saith, thy throne, God, is 
forever and ever." The angelic hosts bow in homage to 
the imperial conquerer. "I beheld and heard the voice 
of many angels round about the throne, and the number 
of them was ten thousand times ten thousand and thou- 
sands of thousands, saying with a loud voice, Worthy is 
the Lamb that was slain to receive power, and riches, 



What mill You do with Jesus ¥ 105 



and wisdom, and strength, and honor and glory, and 
blessing/ 5 

Above all, the ransomed in glory forever fill the atmos- 
phere with raptured strains, as they proclaim the regal su- 
premacy of him that liveth, and was dead, and is alive 
again. "And they sang a new song, saying, Thou art wor- 
thy to take the book, and to open the seals thereof ; for thou 
wast slain, and hast redeemed us to God by thy blood 
out of every kindred, and tongue, and people, and 
nation." 

What will you do with these claims of the glorified 
Jesus? Is there one here who will dispute his merits? 
Perish the impiety. no. If we had a thousand hearts 
and lives they would be too few for this princely 
Redeemer. To him are due our reverence, gratitude, 
and love. It is our baunden duty to give him our faith 
and loyalty. We owe it to his amazing sacrifice of him- 
self, to receive him with delight as a Saviour from sin. 
We wrong him, almost more than we do ourselves, every 
moment we neglect so great salvation. To him is due 
our prompt and unqualified obedience. Reason, con- 
science, every magnanimous, every honorable sentiment 
ought to compel us, with soft but resistless violence, to 
consecrate ourselves to his service. We ought to rejoice 
that the universe contains such a treasure, that he has 
inaugurated his glorious kingdom upon earth, and that 
he reigns and will forever reign in heaven. 

Sinners, miserable captives of death and hell, what do 
yon say to these claims? 0, ye who have been bought 
with a price, ye who have been redeemed with the pre- 
cious blood of the Son of God, to-day I press this solemn 
enquiry upon you. I point to the manger, the garden, 
the cross, and I ask, ought not the love of Christ to con- 
strain you? Will you, can you repel this celestial suitor, 
and range yourselves among his enemies, and say, " We 
will not have this man to reign over us." 

IV. One more thought. We not only have to deter- 
mine what we will do with Jesus as a Being with whom 
we are in constant contact, who has endured so much 
for us, and who urges such incontestable claims, but we 



106 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

have to settle the question with our affections, what we 
will do with him as an object clothed with every charm 
which can captivate the heart, with him as the chiefest 
among ten thousand and altogether lovely. "To you 
that believe," says the apostle, "he is precious;" and 
in what light can we regard this amiable Redeemer, and 
not confess his peerless attractions ? 

Does the soul, conscious of its spirituality and immor- 
tality, cry out for God, for the living God ? Jesus satis- 
fies this want. Creation is glorious, but our minds, our 
hearts crave something more glorious; it is the Creator. 
"We have reason to bless God for the facilities by which 
we can study the material world, and make all its ele- 
ments tributary to our comfort and happiness; but our 
divinest powers are those by which we can extricate our- 
selves from matter, and, rising to the Father of our 
spirits, know and love and worship him. We are not 
all matter, we are spirit. We feel this spirituality. Even 
when most eagerly pursuing them, we carry within us 
the consciousness that our blessedness can never be found 
where we seek it, in objects beneath us; and we instinct- 
ively exclaim, " Show us the Father, and itsufficeth us." 
In that word " Father " what heavenly truths, consola- 
tions, joys are folded up; and Jesus reveals the Father. 
" He that hath seen me, hath seen the Father." 
He is "Emmanuel, God with us," "God manifest in the 
flesh;"— and so manifested that our hearts give way 
before all this exhibition of love and tenderness; rever- 
ence for incarnate deity is softened into the sweetest, 
dearest affections which can enamour all the boundless 
capacities of our souls. 

Then, how precious is, he for all the inestimable bless- 
ings secured by his sufferings. This was the topic 
which caused the disciples going to Emmaus to say, 
"Did notour hearts burn within us while he talked with 
us by the way?" By his sufferings an innumerable 
company of our ruined race arc rescued from tin 1 abysses 
of hell, and raised to all the privileges of the sons of 
God. By his sufferings, "unsearchable riches'' of grace 
and glory are ours; we are made "partakers of the 
divine nature;" by nature children of wrath, we 



What will You do with, Jesus f 107 



become children of God, heirs of God, and joint heirs 
with Christ of an inheritance, incorruptible, undefiled 
and that fadeth not away. 

How precious is Jesus as "the consolation of Israel." 
It was by this title he was promised to patriarchs, 
prophets, kings; and the very anticipation of such a 
"mercy" caused their souls to run over with feelings of 
joy. It was for this "consolation of Israel" Simeon 
waited, and taking him up in his arms, feeling that life 
could offer nothing to detain his ravished spirit another 
moment, he exclaims, "Lord, now lettest thou thy 
servant depart in peace," and he is still the consolation 
of Israel to us. At what time the heart bows under a 
load of sin, groans under strong corruption, is sore pressed 
by temptation, is plucked and crushed by affliction — 
then, then, how are all our glooms brightened, and 
every fear dispelled, and heavenly serenity and happiness 
breathed into our souls, as we lean our heads upon his 
bosom, and hear him whisper, " It is I, be not 
afraid ; " "I, even I, am he that blotteth out thine iniqui- 
ties for my name's sake," "A bruised reed I will not 
break, the smoking flax I will not quench." In such 
moments we rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of 
glory; we lose all sense of pain, and are conscious only 
of that peace which passeth all understanding; we know 
the love of Christ which passeth knowledge ; and taste 
the rapture of victory while still engaged in the conflict. 

But I will never have done. I know not where to begin, 
where to end, when speaking of this precious Redeemer. 
Well does the apostle say that he "is all and in all" the 
precious things of the Gospel. If the Bible be precious, 
he "is all and in all" the Bible; the Bible is the "reve- 
lation of Jesus Christ." If pardon be precious, Christ "is 
all and in all" in our pardon ; we are washed from our 
sins in his blood. If justification be precious, he "is all 
and in all" in our justification ; we are "justified freely 
by his grace."* If sanctification be precious, he "is all 
and in all" in our sanctification ; we are ••'sanctified 
through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ, once for 
all." If redemption be precious, he "is all and in all" 



108 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

in our redemption; we are "redeemed by the precious 
blood of Christ, as of a lamb without spot and without 
blemish." Lastly, in the hour of death, in the day of 
judgment, in the blessedness of heaven, " Christ is all, 
and in all." When flesh and heart are failing, the be- 
liever can mock at death, can insult death, can say, 
death, where is thy sting? grave, where is thy victory ? 
" Thanks be unto God, who giveth us the victory, through 
our Lord Jesus Christ." In view of the dread tribunal, 
he triumphantly exclaims, ''Who shall lay anything 
to the charge of God's elect? it is God that justifieth; 
who is he that condemneth ? it is Christ that died, yea 
rather that is risen again." And through eternity the 
praises of Jesus shall be the theme of ceaseless hosannas, 
of ever deepening transport and raptures. 

Yes, to them that believe he is precious, or as the origin- 
al imports, he is preciousness itself. What is he to us? 
He is precious to all but the devils, the damned, and the 
unbelieving; what is he to us? "We love him, because 
he first loved us." We know his amazing love for us : 
do we love him in return? "If any man love not the 
Lord Jesus Christ, let him be anathema, maranatha;" 
do we love the Lord Jesus Christ? Or is that dreadful 
curse resting upon us for not loving perfect incarnate 
Love itself? Mortals, men, women, what emotions are 
in your bosom toward this Jesus? You have minds to 
appreciate what is noble, souls to adore what is glorious, 
hearts to love what is amiable; and has he no charms 
for you ? He said, "I if I be lifted up will draw all men, 
unto me;" do you feel no attractions drawing you to him 
who is his "Father's chief delight," whose are unsearch- 
able riches of grace, in whom dwelleth all " the fullness" 
of that God who is the absolute uncreated Love ? While 
the redeemed in heaven — and among them those once 
dear to you on earth — are celebrating his praises with 
extasy, can you heap such insult upon him as to renew 
the cry, "Not this man, but Barabbas ?" will you prefer 
to Jesus some vile passion which robs you of real happi- 
ness now, and will plunge you into misery hereafter? 

But it is time to bring these remarks to a close, and I 
finish by repeating the solemn question in the text and 



\\ Iml will Von do with Jcsus. J lo'j 



demanding an answer. .Men of the world, you must conic 
to some definite conclusion upon this subject. You can- 
not thrust it from you. It appeals incessantly to every 
principle, every feeling in your breasts, — to your reason- 
able fears, to all your hopes for eternity, to every manly, 
generous, tender, grateful susceptibility. And what is 
your reply? What think you of Christ? You must 
think of him very soon and very seriously. What will 
you do with Jesus ? In all your actions, your most secret 
thoughts, you have now to do with him, and "all things 
are naked and open before the eyes of him with whom 
you have to do." The hour is near at hand when you 
will have to do with him in a more fearful sense, to meet 
him face to face, to do with him alone, with him evermore. 
What will you do with him? Do 'with him, did I say? 
what, what will you do without him ? what, when af- 
fliction and anguish shall come upon you? what, when 
closing your eyelids in death ? what, when appearing be- 
fore the awful judgment seat? 

Christians, my dearly beloved brethren, we have set- 
tled this matter — settled it once and forever; and with 
reason. For what has Jesus not done for us; what has 
he not done in us; what is he not to us; what will he 
not do with us, and be to us in that day when he shall 
take us to be with him to behold, and to share his glory. 
The question in the text we answered long ago, and each 
year, month, week, day — as we know more of this precious 
Saviour — we answer it with fresh emphasis, with increas- 
ing delight in the choice we have made. What will we 
do with Jesus? Why this, our inmost souls instinctive- 
ly respond, we will do this: We will love him, serve 
him, honor him, adore him, while life and immortality 
endure. 

Y"es, Ave have throned him in our minds and hearts — 
the cynosure of our wondering thoughts — the monarch of 
our warmest affections, hopes, desires. This we have done. 
And the more Ave meditate upon his astonishing love, his 
amazing sacrifice, the more we feel that if Ave had a 
thousand minds, hearts, souls, we would crown him Lord 
of all. Living, AA r e Avill live in him, for him, to him. — 
Dying, we will clasp him in our arms, and, with Simeon, 

5 



110 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

welcome death as the consummation of bliss. Nor to our 
longing aspirations has eternity any charm so ravishing 
as this, that there we shall meet him — this precious Je- 
sus, without whom heaven would be only a scene of 
wearisome splendor (0 black streets of gold, black trees 
of life, black river of life, black angels and archangels, if 
Jesus be not there!) that there we shall "see him as he 
is ;" and that, with souls unstained by sin or frailty 
with eyes undimmecl by a tear, with a gratitude 
and adoration which can know no intermission nor 
abatement, — our love, our ardors, our consecration 
perfected and perpetuated, — we shall cast our crowns 
at his feet, saying, " Worthy is the Lamb." " Unto him 
that hath loved us, and washed us from our sins in his 
own blood, and hath made us kings and priests unto God 
and his Father, to him be glory and dominion forever and 
ever." Amen - . 




The Penitent of Wain. 1 1 1 



lermcu Sctocntft- 



THE PENITENT OF NAIN. 



"And behold, a woman in the city, which was a sinner, when she 
knew that Jesus sat at meat in the Pharisee's house brought an alabas- 
ter box of ointment, and stood at his feet behind him weeping-, and 
began to wash his feet with tears, and did wipe them with the 
hairs of her head, and kissed his feet, and anointed them with the 
ointment. Now when the Pharisee which had bidden him saw it, he 
spake within himself, saying. This man if he were a prophet, would 
have known who and what manner of women this is that toucheth him, 
for she is a sinner. And Jesus answering said unto him, 
Simon, I have somewhat to say unto thee, and he saith, Master, say on. 
There was a certain creditor which had two debtors; the one owed five 
hundred pence, and the other fifty; and when they had nothing to pay, 
he frankly forgave them both. Tell me, therefore, which of them 
will love him most? Simon answered and said, I suppose that he to 
whom he forgave most. And he said unto him, Thou hast rightly 
judged. And he turned to the woman, and said unto Simon, 
Seest thou this woman ? I entered into thine house, thou gavest me no 
water for my feet ; but she hath washed my feet with tears and wiped 
thorn with the hairs of her head. Thou gavest me no lass, but this 
woman, since the time I came in, hath not ceased to kiss my feet. My 
head with oil thou didst not anoint, but this woman hath anointed my 
feet with ointment. Wherefore I say unto thee, her sins which are 
many are forgiven : for she loved much ; but to whom little is forgiven, 
the same loveth little. And he said unto her, Thy sins are forgiven. 
And they that sat at meat with him began to say within themselves, 
Who is this that forgiveth sins also? And he said to the woman, Thy 
faith hath saved thee; go in peace."— Luke vii : 37—50. 

44 A LL flesh is grass, and all the glory of man is as the 
^ flower of grass ; the grass withereth, and the flower 
thereof falleth away, but the word of the Lord endureth 
forever." Yes. my brethren, while nations are convulsed, 
and thrones are subverted, and empires crumble — all their 
splendor shattered ; while one generation with its 
schemes, fashions, discoveries, goeth, and another with 
new fashions, schemes, discoveries, cometh, the Bible is 



112 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

unchanged, its instructions, warnings, consolations are 
for all nations and for all ages. 

The passage just read as our text was written almost 
nineteen centuries ago, yet it appeals to our hearts as if 
recorded yesterday. And especially is this true of those 
features in this narrative to which I invite your attention 
and which will constitute the subject and division of our 
discourse. 

I. The first thing T notice is the portrait of a true, 
evangelical penitent. 

Because the three other evangelists relate that, at 
Bethany, Mary anointed the Saviour's feet, some have 
maintained that the history before us refers to the same 
event; thus, not only forgetting that the scene of our 
narrative is Nam, but shocking all our feelings by sup- 
posing that the gentle sister of Lazarus was unchaste. 
And because Mary of Magdala had been the unhappy 
victim of a fearful demoniacal possession from which Jesus 
emancipated her, others have taken it for granted that 
she was "the sinner " here introduced; and thus the 
fair fame of one of the purest, noblest saints in the Bible 
has been transmitted from age to age to be libelled by 
Magdalen associations and hospitals. The woman men- 
tioned in our text lived in the city of Nain. We have 
no information as to her name or her preceding 
biography, except that she was unchaste ; for such is the 
meaning of the term here translated "a sinner." Instead 
of gratifying the pruriency which would pry into her 
frailties and errors, the Gospel throws a veil over the 
passions, crimes, miseries of her previous life. She was a 
sinner, fallen, lost; but Jesus come to "seek and to save 
that which was lost." The Gospel was for sinners, the 
chief of sinners. And now see its effects upon her. 

To comprehend her case fully, we must consider what is 
here implied, and what is expressly narrated. It is 
implied that she had already seen and heard Jesus, and 
had experienced the peace of that pardon which he 
came to bestow. She resided in Nain. Here Jesus had 
publicly raised from death the son of the widow; " and 
there came a fear on all, and they glorified God, saying, 



The Pen it en t of Na in. II 3 



thai a great prophet is risen up amongsi us, and that 
God hath visited his people." Eere, before the people, 
Jesus had received the message which John had sent by 
two of his disciples; and in that same hour he cured 
many of their infirmities and plagues, and of evil spirits, 
and to many that were blind he gave sight; then Jesus 
answering said unto them, Go your way and tell John 
what things ye have seen and heard, how that the Wind 
see, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, 
the dead are raised, to the poor the Gospel is preached, 
and blessed is he whosoever shall not be offended in me." 
In fine, it was in Nain the liedeemer uttered that blessed 
invitation, "Come unto me all ye that labor and are 
heavy-laden, and I will give you rest; take my yoke 
upon you, and learn of me, for I am meek and lowly in 
heart, and ye shall find rest unto your souls ; for my 
yoke is easy and my burden is light." On one— on each 
of these occasions this woman had probably been present, 
and had been arrested and drawn to Christ. In the 
restoration of the young man, it may be that the Holy 
Spirit had opened her eyes to see her own deplorable 
condition as " dead in trespasses and sins," and had 
quickened her to life. If " the poor had the Gospel 
preached to them," she was poor indeed, and the Gospel 
was for her. And if the weary and heavy-laden were 
invited, who so weary, so heavy-laden, so bowed down 
under a burden of guilt, pollution, shame, as she? 
Where in the whole world was there a soul which so 
longed for rest, which so cried out for the sympathy, the 
compassion of a Saviour who was meek and lowly 
in heart? How sweet to exchange the galling yoke 
of the passions for his yoke which was easy. And com- 
pared with the bondage of sin, how light his burden ; — 
a burden such as sails are to a ship, such as to a bird 
are the Avings with which it springs from earth and soars 
to heaven. 

She had heard Jesus. His words had breathed heaven- 
ly peace into her soul. And now observe her conduct. 
She must see him and tell him of the change he had 
wrought in her, and pour out her heart in gratitude. 
She must see him ; for no sooner is a soul conscious of 



114 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

deliverance, than it seeks to know him by whom that 
deliverance has been achieved; and hearing that he is in 
the Pharisee's house, partaking of a collation, she at 
once enters there. Her errand is apparent to all from 
the alabaster box in her hand. She is going to anoint 
the head of some one at the board; a custom to which 
the Psalmist alludes in those words — " Thou preparest a 
table before me, thou anointest my head with oil." But 
no sooner does she approach the Saviour, as he reclines 
at the meal, than her feelings entirely overpower her. 
As she bends over his feet, her tears .fall on them like 
rain ; indeed the original is, she began to rain tears upon 
his feet. Then she wipes them with the hairs of her 
head. Scarcely, however, are they dried, before they 
are again bathed in the rivers which run from her 
streaming eyes. And thus she continues washing his 
feet, wiping them, kissing them as if her lips would 
cling there forever, (" she hath not ceased to kiss my 
feet,") and anointing them with fragrant ointment. 

But it is not enough that we are touched by the pathos 
of this scene; we must analyze this woman's conduct, 
and learn from it what are the marks of true evangelical 
repentance. 

It may, perhaps, surprise you that not a word is said 
of her legal distress, of the pain and horror into which 
she is plunged on account of her crimes. For — although 
nothing requires us to infer, as the scoff of the Pharisee 
would insinuate, that she was notorious through the city 
as the shame and reproach of her sex — yet at least mod- 
esty, chastity, virtue were gone. How is it, then, that 
she is not clothed in sackcloth and terrified by the cla- 
mors of an upbraiding conscience ? How is it that we 
see in her only tenderness and love? • 

The answer to this question is to be found in the nature 
of true, evangelical penitence. In a state of unpardoned 
sin there will be conviction and anguish when the Holy 
Spirit opens the eyes of a sinner to see himself as he ap- 
pears at the bar of divine justice ; there will be " a cer- 
tain fearful looking for of judgment and fiery indigna- 
tion." But the repentance of the Gospel dissipates these 
fears, and sheds peace into the soul by reconciling us to 



The Penitent of Nain. 115 

the justice of God and to our own consciences. Judas 
hangs himself; it is remorse without repentance. Peter 
goes out and weeps bitterly, but hastens to Jesus ; it is 
remorse leading to repentance. " Godly sorrow worketh 
repentance not to be repented of;" that is to say, it is the 
source of consolation and joy. And in this woman we 
see all the traits of such repentance. 

Observe her faith. An outcast from society; without a 
single friend upon earth; having no home to which she 
can fly and hide herself ; brothers, sisters, father, even 
mother abhorring her as the disgrace of the family ; he 
who had betrayed her confiding innocence forsaking her 
to the contempt of the world, and, what is far worse, to 
that self-contempt which must sink man or woman lower 
and lower ; — in spite of all this, she comes to Jesus 
without a doubt or fear. Whoever despises her, he will 
not, he does not. Whoever may cast her off, he has wel- 
comed her. Poor child of frailty and error, she has found 
not only a human heart to pity her, but a divine Redeem- 
er who has rescued her from her guilt and pollution, has 
given her "beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, 
and the garments of praise for the spirit of heaviness." 

See, next, her contrition. Though forgiven by God, 
she cannot forgive herself. The free sovereign grace and 
mercy so exceeding abundant in her pardon humble her 
in the very dust. In her experience is fulfilled the lan- 
guage of the Lord by his prophet Ezekiel, " That thou 
mayest remember and be confounded, and never open thy 
mouth any more because of thy shame, when I am paci- 
fied toward thee for all that thou hast done, saith the 
Lord God." Harsh as is the judgment of the Pharisee 
who, because she had fallen, still charges her with crimes 
which she now loathes and detests, there is in her breast 
a judge far more severe and inexorable. In a similar 
case Jesus stooped down and wrote a ruined woman's 
sentence in the sand. Her soul is prostrate in the dust, 
but she has written her condemnation in the depths of 
her being. Awakened from her delirious dream she is 
covered with confusion. She cannot raise her eyes from 
the ground. She does not utter a single word. Sighs, 
tears, lamentations are her only language. We have seen 



116 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

that ointment was for the heads of those who feasted ; 
she pours it upon the Saviour's feet. 

While thus self-abased, however, behold in her another 
element always found in true penitence. I mean her 
courage. The derision of her former accomplices ; the 
contemptuous sneers of all who are acquainted with her 
frailty — and when her virtue has been surrendered a 
woman feels as if the whole world knows her dishonor; — 
before yielding to temptation she persuades herself that 
her secret will be safe, but no sooner is the deed done 
than, besides that glance which pierces all disguises, 
every eye she meets seems to be exploring her guilt, 
reading it in her face, detecting it in her looks; above 
all, the repulsive horror of the virtuous and upright who 
shun her presence as defiling the very atmosphere ; — all 
this she must encounter; but there is that within her 
soul which can brave all this. Her passions had defied 
the opinion of men; shall her piety be afraid of it? 
What had she found in a wretched world that its frown 
should keep her from her Kedeemer ? What will they say ? 
— that "they" is, terrible to most people, but it is nothing 
to her. What will he say, what has he said? — this is 
everything. Let them curse, but bless thou! — She had 
gloried in her shame ; she will not now be ashamed of 
her glory. 

And this suggests the only other trait I notice in our 
penitent ; it is her love. Jesus ascribes her conduct en- 
tirely to love. Jesus sees in her nothing but love. This, 
my brethren, is the power of the Gospel, that it breathes 
a new affection into the soul, an affection which changes 
the entire character. This is "what the law could not 
do," what no fears, threats, punishments can do ; but 
what is done by the mission of the Son of God into the 
world. Everything in this woman's conduct shows the 
love glowing in her heart. During all this scene not a 
syllable escapes her. Mutely she enters the hall, mutely 
she passes to the Savour's couch, and there reverently 
bows herself; but how eloquent is her silence. We feel 
instinctively how much has been forgiven, and how much 
she loves. 

Love so tender. Jesus does not seem even to notice 



Tlw Penitent of Nain. 1 17 

her, but she asks no notice; it is enough that she can he 
near him; can kneel and caress his feet, and wash them 
with her tears, and wipe them and kiss them and anoint 
them. Love so active Real affection deals not in pro- 
fessions but in deeds; and she does what she can; she 
omits nothing that can express her gratitude and devo- 
tion. Love which hastens to make reparation for the 
past by devoting to Jesus the gifts she had so deplorably 
abused. Those eyes which had burned with unhallowed 
fires, are now blinded with weeping. Those tresses which 
had been her pride, which had allured to voluptuousness 
hearts formed to serve God, now fall dishevelled over her 
blushing face and minister to the menial office she de- 
lighrs to perform for her deliverer. Her hair the Apostle 
declares is the glory of the woman ; and she thus expresses 
the inward adoration which lays at the feet of the 
Son of God that which constitutes the highest honor, 
beauty, glory of her humanity. The perfumes which once 
gratified her vanity are now consecrated to him whose 
name is sweeter than myrrh, aloes, and cassia. And her 
lips, so often profaned by unholy passions, are now pressed 
again and again to the sacred feet which had brought her 
the news of salvation. Lastly, love which satislies all 
the boundless capacities of her heart. How wretched 
the pleasures of sin when compared with the happiness 
which now fills her soul. Criminal love had been the 
cause of her errors and sorrows; holy love is now the 
source of a thousand heavenly consolations. What a 
change indeed has she experienced. What a change 
from men who had sought only their own selfish gratifi- 
cation, to him who has come to die for her, and who has 
thus signally distinguished her by his grace; from ob- 
jects she had always been forced to feel were unworthy 
of her affections, to him who is '''the chiefest among ten 
thousand and altogether lovely;" from Amnonswhohad 
slighted and despised her for the very sacrifices she con- 
ceded, to him who does not overlook, who overvalues the 
slightest tokens of her preference; from those whose love 
was so inconstant and perfidious, to him whose love, like 
himself, is the same yesterday, to-day, and forever; in a 
word, from the tyranny of a delirious lust, from the cruel 
agitations of an upbraiding conscience, from the mortifying 

5 * 



118 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

precautions, subterfuges, jealousies, alarms, torments of 
guilt, from the dismal weight hanging upon her heart, 
the self-reproaches, the self-loathing revulsions of those 
moments when the soul had leisure to inspect itself — 
from all this to the solid peace, the blessedness, the sweet 
confidence of pardon and communion Avith heaven. I 
spoke just now of what this woman had immolated as a 
proof of her love. I was mistaken. It is her chains, 
her afflictions, her miseries which she casts at the feet of 
her adorable Eedeemer. 

Behold, my brethren, the love, the penitence of this 
sinner ; — a spectacle worthy of God himself. She is an 
object now dearer to the heart of God than she had been 
in the pomp of her unsullied womanhood, a sight which 
kindles unspeakable joy among the angels in glory. But 
with what emotions does the Pharisee view this scene ? 
Let us now turn to him, for in him we have the second 
lesson taught by the history before us. In him, as in its 
type, we see the temper with which a censorious world 
regards those whom the grace of God has mercifully 
drawn from the vortex of its temptations and crimes. 

II. As we read the narrative we feel that the conduct of 
this woman — her grief, tears, gratitude, love — must have 
touched for a moment even the heart of Simon. However 
that might have been, he perceives that his guest not 
only receives but encourages these marks, of homage. 
He is, therefore, silent. He waits to see what Jesus will 
say to her. Perhaps — his pride quelling the better 
thought rising in his breast — he hopes to discover some 
fresh grounds for the charge which had been brought 
against him by the Pharisees who said, "He is the friend 
of publicans and sinners." (v. 34.) 

I have already remarked that up to this time Jesus had 
not seemed to notice the penitent at his feet, but he has 
been closely scrutinizing another person in that apart- 
ment. He has penetrated Simon's bosom, and detected 
there sentiments in every view hateful, to God, yet con- 
stantly harbored by those of whom Simon is a faithful 
representative. "Now when the Pharisee which had 
bidden him saw it, he spake within himself saying, This 
man, if he were a prophet, would have known who and 



The Penitent of Nain. 119 



what manner of woman this is that toucheth him, for 
she is a sinner." 

Such are the thoughts with which he secretly hardens 
his heart against an object deserving his compassion and 
sympathy, — so unfeeling, so harsh, so wanton. But it is on- 
ly the temper of the world; — a world which never forgets, 
which takes pleasure in recalling and exaggerating the 
former sins of those who are converted to Jesus; a world 
all whose maxims, fashions, examples tend to corrupt the 
heart, but which makes no allowance for that corruption; 
a world which prepares, admires, applauds theatres, balls, 
exhibitions that captivate the senses, intoxicate the pas- 
sions, inflame the imagination, yet pretends that its puri- 
ty is outraged if the natural consequences follow, and 
covers with infamy those whom it has itself seduced and 
ruined. 

Then, too, the Pharisee's utter ignorance of the Saviour 
and of himself. "This man if he were a prophet." 1 do 
not stop to enquire why Simon believed that a prophet 
was a discerner of spirits, and to show you that it was, at 
that day, the general opinion that a true prophet could 
read characters, was always endowed with a moral clair- 
voyance. The Pharisee's remark may even have referred 
to The Prophet — the Messiah, one of whose attributes 
Isaiah had predicted would be the power of penetrating 
the secrets of the human bosom. Hence, when Jesus 
convinced Nathaniel of his acquaintance with his 
thoughts, he at once exclaimed, " Thou art the Son of 
God, thou art the King of Israel." Hence the appeal of 
the woman of Samaria, " Come see a man who told me all 
things which ever I did. Is not this the Christ ?" And 
hence the earnestness with which the Evangelist reminds 
us that Jesus "needed not that any should testify of man, 
for he knew what was in man." But I am digressing. — 
The point to which I am speaking is Simon's ignorance. 
For is a prophet to refuse all intercourse with sinners? 
AVhere did he learn this theology? In what school did 
he acquire such ideas of that God who invites the vilest 
to return to him, who says, '* Though your sins be as scar- 
let, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red 
like crimson, they shall be as wool ?" Ah, Simon, it is 



120 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

because he is not only a prophet, but more than a pro- 
phet, that this poor child of sin and misery is welcome to 
him. " This man if he were a prophet would have known 
who and what manner of woman this is that toucheth 
him, for she is a sinner." All her contrition, her tender- 
ness, the profusion of love, gratitude, tears, he describes 
by the cold phrase " touches him;" and he shrinks from 
the very thought of such a contact, "for she is a sinner." 
But, Simon, what art thou in the sight of God? Magnify 
as thou mayest the guilt of this woman, nothing in her 
life has been more odious and abominable in his eyes than 
is this supercilious self-conceit, this arrogance which des- 
pises others. Nor only self-conceit and arrogance, what 
hypocrisy. For, after all, in his eyes with whom an im- 
pure look is adultery in the heart, how little real difference 
is there between the holiest and the most erring. We are 
loud, unsparing against one who has yielded to tempta- 
tion ; yet how often are we conscious of thoughts and 
feelings which would have been carried out into the vilest 
acts, if one mightier than ourselves had not "withheld us 
from sinning," Thou superb Pharisee, flown with van- 
ity, puffed up with admiration of thine own righteous- 
ness, if thou knewest the gift of God and who it is that 
hath condescended to come under thy roof, and what is 
thine own character at the tribunal of divine justice, and 
what is the gush of gratitude springing up in the bosom 
of this penitent noAV when her soul has been absolved and 
life and light are in her heart, instead of thus pointing 
disdainfully at her, thou wouldst have fallen at the feet 
of this compassionate Eedeemer, imploring the mercy she 
has obtained, and without which thou must one day 
" awake to shame and everlasting contempt." 

In short, there is something still more criminal in the 
judgment of this Pharisee. It is cruel and barbarous. 
All her penitence, — tears so abundant, contrition so sin- 
cere, confusion so overwhelming, humiliation so profound, 
homage so mute because it can find no language in which 
to express its gratitude and adoration, — all this he thinks 
Jesus ought to spurn with contempt. Fallen low., he 
would have the Saviour join with the world in sinking 
her to still deeper degradation. The respect of others, 



The Penitent of Nain. 121 



and what is far more deplorable, her own self-respect lost 
lie desires that the Redeemer may crush out in her every 
vestige of hope, and plunge her into despair. Above all, 

this woman is now a trophy and model of triumphant 
grace, but of grace in a soul which still feels the bruises 
of sin, and rejoices with trembling; and Simon wishes 
the friend of sinners to "break the bruised reed and to 
quench the smoking flax," to repel the devotion he him- 
self has inspired, to trample under foot a heart sprinkled 
with his blood, glowing with his love, and to cast back 
into the eternal abysses a brand he has just plucked from 
the burning. 

II L We cannot penetrate the sentiments which the 
Pharisee secretly revolves in his bosom without exclaim- 
ing, with David, "Let me fall into the hands of the Lord, 
for his mercies are great, but let me not fall into the 
hands of man.'' And this petition we would utter with 
still greater emphasis, if I had time to go on, as I 
intended, and to dwell upon the treatment which both 
the woman and Simon receive at the. hands of Jesus. 

There are among men two very different estimates of 
sin; each false and fatal. In reference to their own con- 
duct the} 7 make light of sin. Human nature is frail; 
their hearts are good ; and if they are betrayed into cer- 
tain aberrations, after all, their intentions were right and 
ought to atone for such indiscretions. Xow this view of 
sin may seem very well before the world, and might be 
sufficient if an apology were all we want; but this is not 
what an enlightened conscience seeks; it must have 
pardon and peace which can never be reached through 
these palliations. 

When men sit upon the sins of others, all this is re- 
versed ; they resemble the Pharisee, they are stern and 
inexorable censors. Forgetting that universal brother- 
hood of weakness and temptation by which they and all 
the children of Adam are linked together, they erect a 
standard suited only to unfallen beings. It is because 
the Gospel is an economy of mercy that there is hope for 
any man: but they seem to think that they do God 
homage by expunging the most lovely of his attributes, 



122 Richard Fullers Sermons. 



by asserting only the severe aspects and awful penalties 
of his law, by leaving nothing but condemnation and 
despair for those who shed the bitterest tears over the 
disorders of their lives. 

What is the view which Jesus takes of sin ? Study 
the parable by which he silences Simon and comforts 
this woman. In his estimate sin is no trifle. It is a 
debt which binds us hand and foot under the dreadful 
curse of the law. Does he then regard it as involving us 
in irretrievable perdition ? Certainly if left to ourselves. 
But. blessed be God, hosannas to that love which hath 
interposed and wrought out an amazing salvation for the 
guiltiest, — we are not left to ourselves. "When they had 
nothing to pay, he freely forgave them both.' 7 This is 
the way in which he deals with sin. This is the Gospel of 
the grace of God ; and it is with this he exposes the self- 
righteous Pharisee, and assures the penitent kneeling at 
his feet. 

The former he leads unconsciously to confess that 
where sin is forgiven love will spring up in the heart. — 
love in proportion to the guilt cancelled. He then con- 
trasts the warm, gushing gratitude of this woman with 
the cold, heartless hospitality which had been extended 
to him. "I entered into thy house, thou gavest me no 
water for my feet; but she hath washed my feet with 
tears, and wiped them with the hairs of her head. Thou 
gavest me no kiss ; but this woman, since the time I came 
in, hath not ceased to kiss my feet. My head with oil 
thou didst not anoint; but this woman hath anointed my 
feet with ointment." Enter, my brethren, into this re- 
buke. How must the soul of this conceited Pharisee 
have shrunk abashed, as he felt those piercing eves search- 
ing the labyrinths of his hypocrisy, exposing thoughts 
which he believed were hidden in his own bosom, and 
convicting him by his own confession, of being still un- 
pardoned, because utterly destitute of that love without 
which all his exterior sanctity was only an abomination in 
the sight of God. 

Having thus rebuked the Pharisee, Jesus now turns 
to the woman. Hitherto he has seemed to pay no atten- 
tion to her. She goes on weeping, washing his feet, 



The Penitent of Wain. 123 

wiping and kissing them; but his face is turned from 
her, and he acts as if he had not observed her. Now her 
time has come; and with what affection, with what 
tenderness, with what generous devotion does lie vindi- 
cate and commend her, and make her cause his own. 
Simon can discover nothing but her sin ; Jesus sees 
nothing but her penitence and love. The Pharisee 
secretly despises and denounces her; Jesus openly de- 
fends her, and shews that, while the self-righteousness 
of her accuser renders him odious before heaven, her very 
crimes have wrought in her that contrition and piety 
which are acceptable to God. Lastly, instead of scorn- 
ing, he encourages, applauds, assures her. She had for- 
feited the esteem of the world; he raises her to know 
that she is honorable in the esteem of the Lord of heaven 
and earth. Far more deplorable and fatal was her loss 
of self-respect, her utter degradation in her own eyes; 
he breathes into her a new life, and the hope and confi- 
dence which are inspired by the consciousness of that 
life. Her principles, her character all ruined; there 
were voices which she had heard at times among these 
% ruins, as if angels were pleading with her to rise up and 
break the shackles under which she groaned and termi- 
nate her misery with her sins. Underneath all her guilt 
and shame, she had never ceased to feel that in her being 
there was the mysterious germ of something better, after 
which she often cried and struggled, but cried and strug- 
gled in vain. Jesus gives efficacy to these heavenly 
calls, he touches that germ and causes it to bloom and 
expand. His Spirit arms her with strength, crowns her 
trembling resolutions with victory, makes her a new 
creature — inhaling a new atmosphere — rejoicing in new 
thoughts, emotions, affections, prospects — living in a 
new world. 

Behold what Jesus does for this sinner; and in her 
behold what he does for every one who comes thus in 
faith and penitence to his feet. He said to the woman 
••Thy sins are forgiven.'*' He said more. I have on a 
former occasion, made some remarks upon a question once 
agitated, whether the love of this woman was the cause 
or the effect of her forgiveness ; and we then saw that it 



124 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

was clearly the effect. Jesus confirms this view by his 
final words. He said to the woman, " Thy faith hath 
saved thee, go in peace." Not her love, but her faith 
had brought pardon and peace into her soul. He tells 
her too, that it is by this grace she is to persevere in a 
life of holiness. "Go in peace." Goon believing; and 
as faith hath delivered thee from the guilt, it will conquer 
in thee all the power and corruption of sin. To us 
this is the Gospel conveyed to all by this nar- 
rative. This is the Gospel found on every page of this 
volume. Far be it from me to depreciate morality. Of 
one virtue we are assured that " it is in the sight of God 
of great price." Here as elsewhere sin is represented as 
a debt, not only to warn us that the longer it remains 
the more it accumulates, but that we may regard our 
good works as to their mercantile value, and may feel 
that they have no such value in the jurisprudence of 
heaven, that they are not legal tenders to make satisfac- 
tion for sins against God and to purchase anything of 
him. Until we feel ourselves utterly undone w r e may 
render to Jesus some respect which coses no humiliation, 
just as Simon invited him to supper. It is when we see 
our guilt, our ruin, and how through the great atone-' 
ment all is freely forgiven, that we resemble this sinner 
in her humility, her gratitude, her love, her devotion. 
Men may frame a thousand objections and cavils, but the 
simple fact is, that God's method of reaching, melting, 
converting the soul is the free offer of pardon and salva- 
tion through the sacrifice of Calvary. I know the 
terrors of the Lord have their work to do, but it is only 
to prepare the way that we may "persuade men." Fear 
is to make a breach through which love may enter. Our 
message is mercy, not wrath; heaven, not hell. Could 
the accusations of Simon, could the threats of all the 
Pharisees in Nain have reformed this woman ? And just 
as ineffectual now are the severities of the law. To hum- 
ble, subdue, change the heart — this is "what the law 
could not do," but what is done by that proclamation of 
free mercy and forgiveness, through the blood of Christ, 
which substitutes repentance unto life" for the remorse, 
the sorrow of the world that worketh death," which 
relieves the conscience of its load of guilt, discharges the 



The Penitent of Nain. 125 

heart of every debt except that of gratitude, and causes 
our memory to recall our sins only with the sweet assur- 
ance that they are blotted out forever. 

And there is something else the law could not do. — 
Even after we have received remission of our past sins 
through the atonement, the law has no power to uphold 
and carry us forward in a life of holiness and peace. — 
It is the Gospel which produces in our characters and 
lives a change, not dependent on feeling, and therefore 
transient, but fixed and permanent. It is the Gospel, 
which, not only "magnifies the law and makes it honor- 
able," but makes it delightful by casting over it all the 
charms which ravish our souls and bind them to thelie- 
deemer. And it is the Gospel, the assurance of almighty, 
everlasting grace and strength which cheers and sustains 
ns, inspiring confidence, securing victory in all our con- 
flicts. 

My beloved brethren, what a Saviour is ours; what a 
great, glorious salvation; let us understand it; let us open 
our hearts to all its blessed motives and influences. "To 
whom little is forgiven, the same loveth little." This 
does not mean that any need the pardon only of a few sins. 
Jesus does not refer to the amount of sin, for then it 
might be said, let us "continue in sin that grace may 
abound;" he refers to our sense of guilt and our estimate 
of what has been forgiven. Just as Ave believe there is 
any merit in ourselves, we, of course, deduct from the 
mercy which hath blotted out our sins, and from our 
gratitude for deliverance. It is when our eyes are opened 
to see all our guilt, our depravity, and the free, sovereign, 
distinguishing grace which hath raised us from such an 
abyss to glory, honor and immortality — it is then that 
love absorbs all our souls; that we cry out, Lord, what 
wilt thou have us to do? and would weep if not permit- 
ted to do something as an expression of the ardors burn- 
ing in our souls; that, with the first christians, we exclaim, 
"The love of Christ constrains us;" that, with this 
woman, we instinctively consecrate to Jesus all in which 
we once gloried, — knowing on earth no dignity, no privi- 
lege to compare with that of confessing and serving such 



126 



Richard Fuller's Sermons. 



a Bedeemer, — anticipating in heaven no higher honor, 
no sublimer happiness than to cast our crowns at his feet, 
and mingle with the multitude who forever ascribe all 
power, majesty and glory to Him that redeemed them and 
washed them from their sins in his own precious blood. 
To him be praise and dominion forever. Ame:n". 




The Lamb of God. L27 



Sermon Stjjfitfi- 



THE LAMB OF GOD. 

"Again the next day after, John stood and two of his disciples, and 
looking upon Jesus as he walked, he saith, Behold the Lamb of God." — 
John i : 35-36. 

HE who would commune with the soul of the prince 
of apostles and preachers must study his epistles. 
In the recital of his travels and labors we have only his 
external life sketched by another. In his letters, which 
even his enemies admitted to be "weighty and powerful," 
we have a revelation of his inner life coming from him- 
self. And in these autobiographical disclosures we find 
that the secret of his holiness, his deadness to the world, 
his pre-eminent power as an evangelist was his knowledge 
of a crucified Saviour. 

It was after a full experiment of the power of the cross 
that he said, "I determined not to know anything among 
you, save Jesus Christ and him crucified." In the pol- 
ished city of Athens, he saw all around him a beautiful 
superstition; and he made the attempt, which has since 
been more than once made, to engraft the Gospel npon 
the popular religious sentiment. He failed. Scarcely 
any effect was produced by his sermons. Thus admon- 
ished, he visited Corinth: and then, renouncing all philo- 
sophical argument and accommodation, he preached 
Christ, and a nourishing church was soon established. 

The same object which thus monopolized the mind and 
heart of this accomplished scholar and orator had, in the 
twilight of the Gospel, absorbed the soul of the austere 
herald of the wilderness. The first genius in the acade- 
my of Gamaliel rejoiced in the refinements and elegancies 
of literature, but John's was the spirit and mood of Eli- 
jah. Stern, abstemious, spurning ease and effeminacy 



128 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

he loved the congenial rudeness and solitude of the desert; 
and not the common people only, but Herod himself soon 
felt that he had as little taste for soft speech as for soft 
raiment. 

I wish I had time to speak of the character of this re- 
markable man. What greatness and yet what humility. 
"Verily I say unto you among them that are born of 
woman there hath not arisen a greater than John the 
Baptist ;" in all that august catalogue of patriarchs, 
prophets, priests, kings, there had been none nobler than 
he; but he counted himself unworthy to unloose the shoe- 
latchet of the Eedeemer. What popularity, and yet what 
desire to hide himself behind the glory of his Master. 
"He was a burning and shining light, and there went 
out unto him all Jerusalem, and all Judea, and all the 
region round about Jordan ;" the scribes and Pharisees, 
and even the haughty monarch, listened eagerly to his 
stirring eloquence ; but he styled himself a mere voice — 
vox et prater ea nihil] and exulted in the thought that he 
would decrease, while the Messiah would increase. 

I may not, however, dwell upon the life and ministry 
of one whose career was as brief as it was brilliant. It 
is his theme which demands our attention to-day. " The 
law and the prophets were until John, since that time 
the kingdom of God is preached." John, then inaugu- 
rated prophetically the Gospel dispensation, and you see 
what was his theology. Under direct inspiration he 
points his own disciples away from himself to the Lamb 
of God as the only hope for man. "Behold the Lamb of 
God!" this was the all engrossing topic of the Baptist; 
this is the all engrossing topic for us; this is the 
abridgement of all sermons, the epitome of all doctrines, 
the substance of all exhortations, the whole body of evan- 
gelical divinity. Nor, this morning, have I any argu- 
ments or counsels or entreaties or warnings or expostu- 
lations or consolations to address to you, which are not 
all comprehended in this short, but emphatic, energetical 
exclamation, "Behold the Lamb of God!" 

T. Entering at once into the matter, I begin by regard- 
ing the text as a call to contemplate the earthly life of the 



The Lamb of God. 129 

adorable Being upon whose form John's gaze was riveted. 
And passing other aspects, I wish you to study his char- 
acter us a demonstration of the truth of his doctrines, 
rpon this subject age after age has transmitted to us an 
ever accumulating legacy of evidence, but this I do not 
now touch. No testimonies appeal more directly to the 
reason, and are more calculated to produce conviction, 
than those derived from the character and conduct of the 
Saviour. And this sort of proof is the more worthy of 
your attention, because it is generally overlooked by the 
advocates of Christianity. 

Of course he only is a Christian, who embraces the 
religion of Jesus because he believes it to be true. A 
Christian loves truth first, and receives the Gospel 
because it is truth from God. To love the Bible more 
than truth, or to adopt its teachings through the preju- 
dice of education or because we hope for some benefit, 
all this, you at once see, is not the faith of the Christian, 
in such a blind and selfish assent, there is nothing which 
can secure the approbation of conscience or of God. A 
Christian embraces the doctrines of revelation because 
they are true. He knows when and where his religion 
began. And he knows its author. Indeed Jesus was 
himself the embodiment of his religion, he cannot be 
separated from it, as other teachers may be from their 
systems. And, now, what T say is, that the more you 
contemplate this extraordinary Being — the more closely 
you " behold him as he walked" and lived upon the earth, 
the more irresistible will be the conclusion that he com- 
municated truth to mankind. Prophecies, miracles, — 
very well, I appreciate the force of the arguments which 
they furnish; but in the character of Christ — so entirely 
transcending the attributes of our fallen humanity — 
there is an accession of evidence which establishes a cer- 
tainty and defies cavil or evasion. 

Any historical name calls up certain biographical 
associations, and from infancy we have been accustomed 
to hear of Jesus. This familiarity causes us to regard as 
commonplace the most astonishing phenomenon which 
has ever appeared among men. And, moreover, pardon 
me for saying that few ever bring to the study of this 



130 Richard Fuller's' Sermons. 

character those lights and reflections which are indis- 
pensable, if Ave would feel its celestial purity and glory. 
If you would comprehend something of the Saviour's 
character, you must consider its perfect originality. 
Once, and only once, has there appeared upon this earth 
such an impersonation. The minds of philosophers are 
every day more and more perplexed by that question of 
Pilate, ''What shall I do then with Jesus?" We have 
had " Ecce Homo," and "Ecce Deus," and "Ecce Deus 
Homo," and I know not how many other treatises; but 
high above them all, amidst the lapse of centuries and 
the waste of worlds, the Christ of the Bible stands alone, 
by himself, a solitary, unapproachable, paragon of purity 
and love, an original revelation of divine perfection. It 
is, indeed, this very perfection which renders the charac- 
ter of Jesus less striking to common readers. Not only 
are there no -defects to act as foils, no shades to contrast 
with the lights, but there are no salient virtues, no one 
trait of excellence having pre-eminence over other traits. 
His life is given by four very different writers, each 
simply recording " what Jesus both said and did until 
the day that he was taken up," and the whole brings out 
an entirely new manifestation. Never did a history bear 
upon its face such marks of truth ; and so unlabored 
and artless are all the narratives, that we are more inti- 
mately acquainted with the biography of Jesus than with 
that of any remarkable personage. The evangelists do 
not present him only on set occasions, they bring him 
before us in every position. In language unadorned, 
chastened by veneration into the severest simplicity, 
they recount his public deeds and sayings. With the 
same calm consciousness of his greatness, with a love 
which rises into reverence, and a reverence which melts 
back into love, they introduce us to his most confidential 
interchange of thoughts with his disciples. They pro- 
nounce no eulogies, utter no exclamations; at all 
times and everywhere they seek only to place him 
before us as he was. And at all times and everywhere, 
we feel instinctively that in him humanity existed under 
conditions entirely distinct from those of our fallen na- 
ture ; that only one such being ever appeared upon earth ; 
that he lived a life of perfection and communion with 



The Lamb of Gotf. 131 



the Eternal Father impossible to the constitution of a 
mere creature; that he was " holy, harmless, undeliled, 
and separate from sinners;" that — while the purest of 
the children of Adam have ever been imperfect and 
" from beneath," he was " from above," the incarnation 
of celestial truth, sanctity, benignity. 

I need not say that the sacred writers describe a charac- 
ter of which they could have previously formed no con- 
ception. Nor was the perfection of Jesus a combination 
of traits which had existed separately in others. His 
virtues were heavenly; never had one of them been exem- 
plified in a single pattern. The portraits we have of 
this wonderful personage are plainly drawn by those who 
had but one single object — to "set forth in order a de- 
claration of those things" they knew of their Master. — 
And the Being who thus becomes the subject of our con- 
templation is, in his personal character, in his ministry, 
in his life, in his death, as immeasurably above human- 
ity as the heavens are above the earth. Not only could 
he demand of his enemies, "Which of you convinceth me 
of sin?" but he is himself plainly conscious of immacu- 
late holiness. Mingling among men as a man, entering 
with the tenderest sympathy into their miseries, reliev- 
ing their wants, healing their diseases, assuaging their 
griefs, weeping at their afflictions; — we yet behold in him 
a visitant from another world, one who is not from men 
nor of men. A sunbeam penetrating sinks of pollution is 
not more unstained and insulated, not more plainly "from 
above," than he was in all his intercourse with human 
passions and corruptions. And whether we consider the 
judicial authority with which he condemned sin, or the 
tenderness of his sympathy for human sorrow and suffer- 
ing, or the unaffected majesty with which he asserts his 
eternal power and glory, or his life, or his preparation 
for death, or his death, — we will at once confess, that a 
new unique Being has appeared on the platform of hu- 
man affairs; that he is invested with unrivalled peerless 
dignity; and that his words are truth, his doctrines the 
wisdom which is to enlighten and elevate and save man- 
kind. 

If you would comprehend something of the Saviour's 



132 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 



character, you must remember the age in which he 
appeared. "When the fullness of the time was come, 
God sent forth his Son made of a woman." It is true 
that the season of his manifestation was the fittest; for the 
world was then in a state of great scientific and literary 
advancement ; — so that men's minds were ready to inves- 
tigate the claims and teachings of Him who now became 
an actor in its history. But the period was oue of deep 
and universal moral degeneracy. I will not disgust you 
with the proofs of this assertion. It is a matter 
of easy demonstration, that every form of vice rioted 
in the world, every form of hypocrisy and corruption 
reigned in the religion both of Jew and Gentile. At 
such a time, this adorable Being stood before men. — 
Was he only a man r only the carpenter's son ? — 
Suppose that up to this hour our earth had been 
shrouded in thick darkness, with only here and there a 
dim star in all that night. And suppose that, all at 
once, the East should be mantled with rosy light ; and 
then we should see a limb of the orb of day ; and then, 
trailing streams of glory, the dazzling luminary should 
ride sublimely up to the zenith in all his unchastened 
splendor; would he not be an idiot who could believe 
that human hands had kindled the radiant disc, and 
that human skill was guiding it on its imperial path- 
way ? To a reflecting mind, this miracle would not be 
so amazing, it would not so clearly attest the interposi- 
tion of divine wisdom and power, as the revelation, at 
such an epoch, of that life and character which we admire 
in Jesus. 

A third view of the subject before us has reference to 
the pecular people among whom Jesus was born, "of whom 
as concerning the flesh Christ came." Never were preju- 
dices more lodged and rooted than those of the Jews. 
As God's chosen people they walled themselves oft* from 
the rest of mankind, despising others as outcasts from 
Jehovah's favor, refusing to eat or to have any sort of 
communion with them. For themselves they arrogated 
the exclusive protection of heaven ; they were sure of sal- 
vation ; and gloried in the magnificence of their temple, 
the gorgeous splendor of their priesthood, and the impos- 
ing pomp of their rituals. True, the Eomans had been 



The Lamb of U od. 133 

mysteriously permitted to subjugate them ; but this was 
only for a while. The hour of deliverance, the day of 
vengeance and recompenses, was now at hand. Jehovah 
had not forgotten Zion. Shiloh was about to come and 
break the hated yoke, and smite in pieces the might of 
their haughty foe. "Marvellous things did he in the 
sight of their fathers in the land of Egypt, in the field 
of Zoan," but a more signal triumph would soon be 
achieved, when Salem should be crowned with the dia- 
dem of the whole earth, and the once invincible prowess 
of the Caesars cower humbly at the feet of the illustrious 
conqueror. 

While these expectations are standing on tiptoe, Jesus 
appears, and very soon all eyes are turned to him. The 
people hail him as the long expected Messiah, and are 
eager to crown him. Nor does he, like John, repel their 
homage ; he claims it. He is the glorious monarch who 
had been the theme of prophecy. But, from first to 
last, he rises superior to the feelings of his nation, he 
looks down with pity upon their earthly ambition. He 
declares that the kingdom of heaven is at hand ; but that 
it is a kingdom not of this world, its sceptre to be won 
not by arms but by truth ; a spiritual empire, the reign 
of peace and holiness and love; a throne to be established 
not in Jerusalem, but in the heart of a renovated world. 
Crowding about this mysterious Being, the multitudes 
hold their breath, that they may catch the first word of 
command which shall marshal them in battle array and 
lead them to victory. But, instead of appealing to the 
popular enthusiasm, he speaks to them of repentance, 
of peace, of humility, of the blessedness of persecution. 

Represent to yourselves the disappointment, the cha- 
grin of the feverish throng eagerly pressing around him, 
burning with patriotic ardor and revenge, when, in his 
very first address, he thus announces the privileges and 
distinctions of his subjects: "Blessed are the poor in 
spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven;" "Blessed 
are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth;" " Blessed 
are the pure in heart, for they shall see God ;" " Blessed 
are ye when men shall revile you, and persecute you, 
and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely for 



134 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

my sake." And in all his life we find the same sus- 
tained elevation above the hereditary hopes, the ancient 
religious faith of his nation; above the influences of birth, 
education, society. In his entire ministry he reveals the 
sublime and perfectly original conception of a kingdom 
of God which is in the soul. And he constantly pro- 
claims that his mission is spiritual, that he had come to 
deliver man from sin, and conduct him to glory, honor 
and immortality beyond the skies. 

My brethren, enter into these truths. And to these 
reflections I ought to add others. I ought to point to 
the wonderful changes which have been wrought in the 
moral condition of the world by the brief residence of 
this heavenly visitant amongst men. Since he entered 
humanity, a new power has been at work; a new force, 
acquiring fresh momentum every year, has been moulding 
human affairs. Since the wonderful birth at Bethlehem, 
the world has been a new world. I ought to remind 
you that this clay three continents confess the sovereignty, 
and every portion of the earth is feeling the influence of 
him who, "being the holiest among the mighty, and the 
mightiest among the holy, has, with his pierced hand, 
lifted empires off their hinges, has turned the stream of 
centuries out of its channel, and still governs the ages." 
And I ought to collect at least some of those traits which 
were united in his character; traits to which we still look 
up and feel their incomparable exaltation above our na- 
ture; traits which did not mature slowly and mutinously 
like human virtues, but shone out at once in God-like 
perfection; and traits which render the manifestation of 
such a character at that period, and among that nation, 
a moral wonder far more striking than any physical 
miracle. 

These and other thoughts I ought to urge, but I will 
not. I have said enough. " Behold the Lamb of God;" 
contemplate this extraordinary Being, and you will con- 
fess that his religion must be true. Again I lament tho 
influence of familiarity in deadening the impression 
which such a character ought to make upon us. But, 
after all, "Behold the Lamb of God;" study his life, his 
character, and you will pity the childish cavils of infidel- 



The Lamb of Cud. 135 



ity. Why, t lie conception of such excellence, such purity, 
grandeur, love, never dawned upon the mind of sage or 
seer. An infidel says that " the inventor of such a bi- 
ography would have been not less "wonderful than its 
Subject.''* And when I know that this full-orbed, 
heaven-born perfection really existed among men ; existed 
did I say? — "when I see him still existing; -when I feel 
him still living, moving, acting, speaking all around me 
and within me; when — though the outer conditions of 
his life have passed away for eighteen hundred years — 
I behold him still present, breathing life and love into 
millions w r ho would die for him, inspiring his churches 
with courage and strength as if the shout of a king were 
among them, vanquishing his foes, consoling, sustaining 
his people, slowly but surely regenerating the world: — 
when I see, when I feel all this, J ask, I want no more, 
I can have not a doubt; I say, with the centurion, 
" Truly this was the Son of God ;" I exclaim, with Peter, 
" Lord, to whom shall w r e go, thou hast the words of eter- 
nal life, and we believe, and are sure, that thou art that 
Christ, the Son of the living God." As I read the his- 
tory of Jesus, I exult in a confidence I cannot express ; 
I need no other testimony ; I no longer examine pro- 
phecies or miracles ; the truth carries conviction to my 
mind instantly and irresistibly by its own self-evidence. 
Look at the sun; it shines by its own radiance, it needs 
no foreign light. And thus it is with the character of 
the Lamb of God; the morel explore it, the more trans- 
parent is its divine glory; and the more clearly, of course, 
do I see truth stamped upon Christianity; for the char- 
acter of Jesus is not only the proof of the religion he 
taught, it is that religion itself. 



II. I pass now to a second view of our text, — a second 
import of the exclamation, "Behold the Lamb of God ;" 
regarding it as having reference to the Redeemer's work, 



* I refer, of course, to the well-known language of "Emile" by 
Rosseau, "et 1-Evangile a des caracteres de verite si grands, si 
frappants, si parfaitement inimitables, que 1-inventeur en serait 
plus etonnant que le heros." 



136 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

to the great atonement which he wrought out for man. 
That this stupendous transaction — however dimly fore- 
shadowed or rather fore-shined as yet — was prophetically 
revealed to John, we can have no doubt. The very 
phraseology of the passage shows this. " Lamb," " Lamb 
of God," — "Lamb of God which taketh away the sin of 
the world," — these terms admit of only one interpreta- 
tion ; they allude evidently to the Paschal lamb, and 
prove that the Spirit of Christ which was in John dis- 
closed to him, in this Being, the great antitype. 

Jesus has now returned to the Jordan, after his bap- 
tism and the temptation of the wilderness. Though 
awed by his dignity, John did not know him when he 
administered the sacred rite (v. 33); but now the myste- 
rious victim is prophetically disclosed to his faith. As 
the Redeemer walks in sublime silence, equipped for his 
majestic and awful achievement, it is the office of the fore- 
runner to announce him. This John had done the day 
before, proclaiming him to the multitude. Now he 
repeats his testimony more pointedly to some of his own 
disciples, who at once follow Jesus. The Lamb of God as 
the great sacrifice for sin, this is the object towards 
whom the herald seeks to direct the attention of all. 
And now, my brethren, in all the past, the present, the 
future, on earth, in heaven, in time, in eternity — what 
ever has been, or ever can be so novel, so wonderful, 
so profoundly, absorbingly interesting as this? Before 
the sublimity of the Saviour's enterprise, the exploits of 
kings and heroes sink into contempt. We cannot reflect 
upon its intrinsic grandeur, its bearings upon this fallen 
world, its relations to other portions of the moral uni- 
verse, without feeling our souls alternately exalted and 
humbled, subdued by awe, melted into tenderness, and 
swept by wondering, adoring hosannas. 

I have said that the title "Lamb" refers to a sacri- 
fice. The first great truth here unfolded, then, is that 
the death of Jesus was a real sacrifice, a propitiation for 
sin; — a doctrine this, most repulsive to those who deny 
the Saviour's divinity, but which is one of the clearest 
matters of revelation ; a doctrine which is the very reve- 
lation itself given in the Gospel; and which is the pre- 



The Lamb of God. 137 



cise point of separation between those who preach the 
Gospel, and those who "preach another Gospel " which 
is no Gospel, but a fraud and a sham. 

Men and brethren hear me on this topic. All things 
from the planets overhead to the dust beneath your feet, 
are under law. Man's true liberty, like that of angels, 
is not to be free from law, but to be under the best law. 
The child is born and grows up into the citizen, carrying 
within him the sense of responsibility to government as 
his normal condition; and no two ideas are more indisso- 
lubly connected in our minds than punishment and the 
violation of law. 

Now, God, in his moral administration, governs this 
earth by laws written in the Bible, or in our own con- 
sciences. All men bear in their own bosoms the convic- 
tion that the laws of God are good, they are compelled 
to confess their absolute perfection ; and they are also 
conscious that they have violated these laws. Penalty 
is, of course, a part of law; without it the most solemn 
enactments would be only advice and exhortation. If 
law be violated, the penalty must be enforced, except 
where there is some extenuation of guilt; for better no 
laws, than laws which are not executed. Such are the 
majesty and inviolability of the divine law, that a single 
transgression instantly changes altogether the state and 
destiny of the creature ; involving a fatal and irrevocable 
ruin — as we see in the history of reprobate angels. And 
if one sin work such desperate conclusions, what is the 
state of man whose iniquities are as the sands of the sea? 
Lastly it follows, of course, that there can be no escape 
for a single human being, unless the divine law be 
repealed — (which is impossible, for that law is a tran- 
script of God's character, and its revocation would quite 
expunge his perfections) — or else some medium be found 
by which God can be just and yet justify the ungodly. 

These propositions could be easily established, but it 
is unnecessary ; they are really so many axioms. And 
these maxims conceded, the only question is, by what 
interposition can man be rescued from the seemingly irre- 
mediable consequences of sin ? There must be some me- 
dium; and as repentance is the only medium which — 



138 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

without the Gospel — a reflecting mind could suggest, let 
us, for a moment, examine this ground of hope. 

Now, to my judgment, it is enough to expose this sys- 
tem, that I find it contradicted everywhere in the econo- 
my of nature. The physical laws of this planet are from 
the same author who has framed the moral code, and as 
to them what is the fact? Does penitence retrieve the 
mischief of a violated law? In the natural world we 
find a vast disproportion between our ability to inflict 
harm and to repair it. If a man throw himself from the 
top of a lofty column, will repentance cure his wounds 
and knit together his fractured limbs ? If he swallow 
arsenic, will repentance arrest the deadly distillment? 
Now, surely, God's moral administration must beat least 
as inviolable as his physical government. Why, then, 
should we expect that repentance can absolve us from a 
thousand infractions of the moral law? 

From nature, let us appeal to reason ; what is its ver- 
dict? Sorrow for sin and reformation are duties which 
reason and conscience enforce; but can the discharge of 
a present duty atone for a past sin? Why, it were not 
more irrational to suppose that the performance of past 
duty would justify present transgression. 

In short, civil government is the ordinance of God; 
but where is the government which remits the punish- 
ment due to crime, because the culprit repents? Add, 
too, that in the dispensation of the Gospel, the only alter- 
native is hell or heaven. If, then, repentance can save, 
it secures not only forgiveness but everlasting glory. 
What would be thought of human laws which should 
provide, not only pardon, but the highest honors for all 
penitent criminals? With such legislation no adminis- 
tration could escape hopeless demoralization. 

As I thus state these truths, you at once admit them; 
you see that neither natural religion nor philosophy can 
aid us in discovering the medium by which guilty man 
can be rescued; that God must devise and disclose the 
remedy. Well, well, you say, but we have a revelation, 
and is not pardon there promised immediately ? With 
those who receive the Bible as a communication from 
heaven — this is really the only question; and the answer 



The Lamb of God. 139 



is unequivocal and conclusive. For my part, every oper- 
ation of the Supreme Ruler which I see around me for- 
bids my expecting from him a direct amnesty. Nature 
is full of a mediatorial scheme. In the animal and 
physical world, in illuminating and fertilizing the earth, 
in sustaining and perpetuating human life, in the entire 
material economy. God always accomplishes his pur- 
poses and confers blessings mediately — by the employ- 
ment of agencies; — why should I expect a deviation from 
this settled plan in his spiritual dispensations? 

In the next place, there is as to sin and the pardon of 
sin, a revelation older than the Sacred Books. Itis writ- 
ten in the human bosom, and what does this proclaim? 
Its mysterious yet explicit admonition is, not only that 
there must be some medium, but that the medium must 
be sacrificial. Wherever men are found they seek to 
expiate for sin, not only by mediation, but by multiply- 
ing the number of mediators, by numerous priests and 
repeated offerings; — thus confessing their guilt, the felt 
necessity of some medium, and the imperfection of their 
schemes. Reason can detect no connection between the 
forgiveness of sin and the blood of a victim. The uni- 
versal prevalence of sacrifices must, then, be traced to a 
revelation, either orally transmitted, or recorded in our 
very nature. 

In fine, upon no point is the Bible more clear and full. 
Here every page is blood-red ; patriarch, prophet, apos- 
tle, all repeating this truth, that "without shedding of 
blood there is no remission of sin." Morality sends us 
to our good deeds, our character, our penitence; super- 
stition sends us to forms and sacraments; the Gospel 
gathers all its inspiration into one glorious note and 
cries, "Behold the Lamb of God!" In the jurispru- 
dence of heaven our virtues have great moral worth, but 
they have no mercantile value so as to purchase anything 
from God. As far as salvation is concerned, morality is 
useful -only because it leads to religion. 1 he sacred pages 
know absolutely nothing of any mercy independent]}" of 
the atonement, "With the Lord is mercy, and with him 
is plenteous redemption, and lie shall redeem Israel from 
all his iniquities." "Being justified freely by his grace, 



140 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus." The Gos- 
pel reveals no vague abstract benevolence, but love reach- 
ing us through a mediator. " God so loved the world ;" — 
this language refers not only to the greatness, but to the 
peculiarity of the love. God's philanthropy did not par- 
don man immediately, but it found expression through a 
medium. " God so loved the world, that he gave his only 
begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should 
not perish, but have everlasting life." 

"The Lamb; " you perceive the import of this term. 
Salvation is not through a moral but through a sacrifi- 
cial righteousness; through the vicarious sufferings of a 
victim. I go on, now, and observe, that the Lamb is 
God's Lamb — "the Lamb of God." For thousands of 
years had the priests stood immolating those animals 
which, as the appointed representatives, forfeited their 
lives for man; but these sacrifices were furnished by 
those who had sinned. Now the victim is provided by 
God. A truth this full of sublimity and consolation. 

" Wherewitli shall I come before the Lord, and bow 
myself before the high God? Shall I come before him 
with burnt offerings, with calves of a year old? Will 
the Lord be pleased with thousands of rams, or w T ith ten 
thousand rivers of oil? Shall I give my first born for 
my transgression, the fruit of my body for the sin of my 
soul ? " This " Wherewith " has ever been the pressing 
difficulty to the convicted soul. k With all his holiness, 
Job saw that between him and Jehovah there must be a 
mediator. How bitter his complaint, " Neither is there 
any daysmen betwixt us." Everywhere the earnest im- 
ploring cry of humanity — longing to return to God but 
repelled by a sense of guilt — has been, " Wherewith shall 
I come ?" And the answer; the only answer to that en- 
quiry is found in our text, "Behold the Lamb of God!" 

This, indeed, is the great, unique, signal peculiarity of 
the Gospel. Go where they would, there was never any 
dispute between the apostles and their hearers — as there 
is between us and our audiences — with reference to 
the necessity of a sacrifice for sin ; but here was the great 
difference. In other religions the sinner offered the sa- 
crifice to God. In the Gospel God offers the sacrifice for 



The Lamb of God. 141 



sinners. At this day it is impossible for ns to feel the 
force of this singular truth. But if we could place our- 
selves in the position of a Jew, at the period when Jesus 
appeared, we would feel the sheer, downright absurdity, 
of that ribaldry which ascribes Christianity to priest- 
craft; we would understand the implacable hostility of 
the priests to such a religion. The pardon of sin was 
the very matter at issue between the apostles and the 
Jewish hierarchy. Century after century, the blood of birds 
and beasts had flowed upon consecrated altars. These al- 
tars, priests, sacrifices, oblations are all now to cease ; and 
why? is man no longer a sinner? is humanity perfect? 
Not at all. They must be discontinued because the true 
Priest, the real sacrifice has appeared. "The one obla- 
tion " of the Gospel is never mentioned, as the offering of 
men; but always as the amazing gift of God, as the grand 
master-piece of divine wisdom, power, and love. "He 
spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all." 
" Herein is love, not that we loved God, but that he loved 
us, and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins." 
" Whom God hath set forth to be a propitiation through 
faith in his blood." "The precious blood of Christ as of 
a lamb without blemish and without spot, who verily 
was fore-ordained before the foundation of the world, but 
was manifest in these last times for you." When vindi- 
cating the evangelical character of his ministry, the 
Apostle reminds the Corinthians that he had first laid 
the foundation of all doctrine and of all piety, by preach- 
ing the atonement of Calvary. "For I delivered unto 
you, first of all, that which I also received, how that 
Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures." 

That God offers the sacrifice, this is the great thing in 
the Gospel ; this is the Gospel, the "glad tidings of great 
joy." \Vherever the disciples of Christ went, this truth 
was the substance of all their preaching; Christ cruci- 
fied was their only theme, their only religion. And 
whenever their ministry was successful, the former sa- 
crifices were, of course, superseded. In his celebrated 
letter to Trajan, Pliny informs the emperor, that the 
eifect of Christianity had been to "render the sacrificial 
victims wholly unsalable." Indeed, my brethren, who 

6* 



142 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

but God could provide the sacrifice demanded for so 
stupendous an atonement? After all that human wisdom 
and virtue could do, after seeking to submit himself to 
the will of God, after all his tears and penances, his zeal 
and devotion, and though he climb like Isaac up to any 
self-sacritlce — still, with Isaac, man could only exclaim, 
"Behold the fire and the wood, but w r here is the lamb 
for a burnt offering ?" It remained for faith to see Christ's 
day, and, with Abraham the " father of the faithful," 
rejoicingly to answer, "My son, God will provide himself 
a lamb for a burnt offering" 

You see, then, that the adorable victim was bestowed 
by God himself. And, now, what shall I say of the bless- 
ings conveyed in this gift? The Baptist proclaims the 
efficacy of this precious sacrifice to remove all the load of 
guilt. Have you any adequate appreciation of such a 
deliverance ? Contemplate this amazing tragedy, — this 
catastrophe in which such a being, the "Brightness of 
the Father's glory," his "Beloved Son," is stretched upon 
such an altar, as the only possible expiation for our guilt, 
— and you will have conceptions of the malignity of sin 
which no language can express. The Scriptures portray 
in the strongest colors God's abhorrence of this detesta- 
ble thing. Jesus himself, in his pathetic address to the 
weeping "daughters of Jerusalem," declares that, dismal 
as were his sufferings — the humiliations, the insults, the 
buffetings, the spitting, the scourges, the thorns, the robe, 
the nails, the shame, the cross — there is a more doleful 
object demanding our tears, and that this object is sin. 
But it is when beholding the glory and the august agony 
of this spotless victim, that we are overwhelmed with 
views of the atrocity of sin in itself and of our desperate 
condition. Whether such a horrible evil admitted of a 
remedy, and what was the remedy, God alone could de- 
cide. And he assures us that the blood of his Son 
cleanseth from all sin. "Behold the Lamb of God, 
which taketh away the sin of the world." Not who 
took away ; but who now "taketh away" sin. Yes, to all 
the millions in America, Europe, Asia, Africa, — to all — 
to each — this victim is set forth, as the Lamb of the Bass- 
over was prescribed to the Jew. What an object to 
attract the concentrated gaze of the universe. What an 



The Lamb of God. I t3 



object to engage and absorb all the passions of my soul. 
The Israelite knew what he did when he laid his sins 
upon the appointed substitute; and the Christian acts 
intelligently, when he rolls the burden of conscious guilt 
upon this vicarious sufferer. 

This is not all. The death of Jesns secures not only 
a full discharge, but justification. Xot only are we re- 
instated in that favor which was the glory of unfallen 
man, but we are clothed in a righteousness to which 
unfallen man could never have aspired. In a word, "He 
that spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for 
us all, bow shall he not with him, also freely give us all 
things ?" The Bible constantly represents the redemption 
by Christ as the donation of treasures which never conld 
have been purchased by human or angelic obedience. 
The inspired writers exhaust all their powers to extol 
this magnificent and "unspeakable gift." How deplora- 
ble it is to find those who call themselves Christians, de- 
preciating this "mystery hid from ages and generations ;" 
degrading to the level of common humanity him whom 
the Holy Spirit denominates "The Wonderful," whose 
pre-eminent dignity constitutes him a sin-offering which 
vindicates the divine attributes and raises the guilty to 
immortal glory. He was a good man, they say; — that 
is, he was not a bad man ! And they are greatly alarmed, 
lest Ave should too highly exalt him, to whom the Scrip- 
tures ascribe the whole work of our salvation ; whom we 
are commanded to honor even as Ave "honor the Father;" 
and at Avhose feet the shining hosts of heaA'en incessantly 
cast their crowns, " saying with a loud voice, — "Worthy 
is the Lamb that Avas slain, to receive poAver, and riches, 
and Avisdom, and strength, and honor, and glory, and 
blessing," — "For thou Avast slain, and hast redeemed us 
to God by thy blood out of every kindred and tongue 
and people and nation, and hast made us unto our God 
kings and priests." 

III. I had intended to propose the Lamb of God to 
your meditations in one other aspect. He is our exam- 
ple; and the title by which he is commended in the text 
suggests those graces of meekness, gentleness, tenderness, 



144 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

patience, which are peculiar to the Gospel, and which 
were so perfect in him; but as I have already detained 
you long enough, I abridge the matter and hasten to a 
conclusion. 

The subject upon which I have addressed you to-day 
is of infinite importance to us all. It deeply concerns us 
ministers of the Gospel. We live at a period when the 
very air is tremulous with excitements, and it is expected 
that our discourses shall refer to passing events. If I 
have disappointed you, let my apology be that of Arch- 
bishop Leigh ton in similar circumstances. The pastors 
of his day, like many now, deemed it their duty to 
harangue their audiences as to political matters; and at 
their clerical meetings they catechised each other as to 
their fidelity in this duty. Upon one of these occasions 
the question was carried around — " Do you preach for the 
times?'" " Do you preach for the times?" There was 
but one reply ; each answering, " Yes, certainly and con- 
stantly; my sermons are such as the times require." At 
length the inquiry was made of Leighton, who said, 
" Since so many able ministers preach for the times, suffer 
one humble servant of Christ to preach for eternity." 
Men and brethren, this earth has seen but one perfect 
model of a preacher ; it was Jesus ; and how did he spend 
his time? Did he engage in the civil strifes or in any of 
the ephemeral conflicts of the day ? No, he was entirely 
occupied in proclaiming the everlasting Gospel. Or take 
John the Baptist, "He was a burning and a shining 
light;" but was he ever a firebrand ? Did he ever de- 
grade himself and his office by forgetting his holy calling 
and playing the demagogue among the multitudes who 
hung upon his lips? . 

Nor can our ministry be a blessing to the world or the 
church except as we imitate these example.-:. "Behold 
the Lamb of God," — this was all the counsel John gave 
to his disciples who were about to follow the Redeemer 
and to be ordained as ambassadors for God. And it is 
because this glorious, inspiring object is not always be- 
fore our eyes, that we ministers are what we are; that, 
with themes which ought to inflame all our being, we are 
so often formal and lifeless. For my own part, if I could, 



The Lamb of God, 145 



without insufferable presumption, write a treatise on the 
secret of successful preaching, every chapter, every page, 
everysentence should but repeat and paraphrase the lan- 
guage of our text. Herald of salvation, would you be 
earnest? behold the Lamb of God. Would you be im- 
pressive? behold the Lamb of God. Would you glow 
with irrepressible ardor for souls? behold the Lamb of 
God ? Would you be direct and pointed in your appeals ? 
behold the Lamb of God. Would you have your heart 
melt in tenderness? behold the Lamb of God. Would 
you have the solemnitiesof eternity, the judgment, heaven, 
hell, always pressing upon you — firing your zeal, glowing 
in your breast, throbbing in your pulses, burning upon 
your lips, beaming in your eye, informing, inspiring all 
your being and all your thoughts and words with native, 
spontaneous, resistless power? behold the Lamb of God. 
The cruel, barbarous heartlessness, the childish rhetorical 
embellishments, the disgusting theatrical tricks and 
starts and struts and attitudes, the cold correct dullness, 
the still colder and more freezing bombast and declama- 
tion, — if a minister would avoid these vices which too 
often dishonor the pulpit; — if he would be simple, easy, 
natural ; if he would preach not before but to his audience, 
rousing the consciences of sinners, and elevating the 
characters of Christians; if he would pray, and study, 
and labor so as to be a workman that needeth not to be 
ashamed ; let him behold the Limb of God. In a word, 
the entire art of preaching; the whole system of homi- 
letics; whatever can equip and adorn the sacred orator; 
whatsoever things are original, whatsoever things are 
lovely, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are 
true; if there be any virtue, if any grace, if any dignity, 
if any eloquence, if any glory; — all, all are condensed 
in this single, comprehensive, sublime counsel, "Behold 
the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the 
world." 

Our subject addresses itself most solemnly to those who 
have neglected the Gospel; who have hitherto been in- 
different to an object which engages the admiring, adoring 
attention of angels and archangels. That there is such 
a class upon this earth where the Lamb of God lived and 



146 Richard Fuller 's Sermons. 

suffered — among those for whom he died — is, to a devout 
mind, a grief and a marvel. My friends, in this astonish- 
ing apathy you are entirely alone, you are a wonder to 
heaven and to hell. Look where we will in the revelation 
vouchsafed to man, Christ is the great central object. 
Even Moses, the representative of the law, lifts up the 
serpent as the emblem of the Redeemer. You profess to 
honor this revelation ; what infatuation, then, is yours, 
when you remain unconcerned about the Saviour. 

That he has come into the world, is the amazing fact 
which sheds new interest upon everything; and to his 
cross must be traced all those influences which are now 
"shaping the growing stature of the world." Pious men 
make pilgrimages to Palestine; they call it "The Holy 
Land," and find it good to be there, as they feel the in- 
spirations of those spots where this Being lingered, and 
prayed, and wept, and expired. To a sanctified heart 
the whole earth is now a Palestine, a holy land breath- 
ing and burning of Him; and everything connected with 
the earth is consecrated. The ground is hallowed, since 
he trod upon it; the skies are hallowed, since they bent 
over him; the sun is hallowed, since its beams fell upon 
him by day; the stars are hallowed, since they looked 
down on him at night; the winds are hallowed, since 
they heard and obeyed his voice; and the waves, since 
he walked upon them and stilled their clamor. Moun- 
tains are hallowed, for he climbed their sides to com- 
mune with his "Father; valleys are hallowed, for he 
dwelt there with his disciples; gardens are hallowed, for 
Gethsemane was a garden; deserts are hallowed, for a 
desert was the scene of his temptation and victory; vil- 
lages are hallowed, for Bethlehem and Bethany were 
villages; cities are hallowed, for he poured out his flow- 
ing anguish over a city. In short, upon every earthly 
object there has been flung a new lustre, since this Being 
stooped to our humanity. The grave, even the cross, is 
now invested with sacred glory. How is it, my dear 
hearer, that you are unaffected!'' that you live as if the 
Lamb of God had never visited this world, had never 
stood upon its surface bathed in grief for you, and for 
you expired upon that dreadful altar? Oh, if after all 



The Lamb of God. 147 



this, you perish but you must not perish. It will 

never do. By the love of Christ, by his humiliation, by 
Ins tears, his groans, his bloody swe. r, his agony and 
death, [ conjure you to open your eves, to see your guilt 
and danger, and to "behold the Lamb of God who tak- 
eth away the sin of the world." 

There are those before me who are not indifferent to 
this great object, who are deeply anxious to secure an 
interest in him; and to them the exhortation in our text 
conies home at once. Sin and a Saviour from Sin,— 
these— even more than the existence of a God— are the 
themes of revelation. And without terms or con- 
ditions.— with only this qualification that you feel your 
guiltiness and are willing, penitently to renounce your 
sins and to receive him, — the Lamb of God stands re- 
vealed before you and for you. The sacrifice for sins is 
now finished. If for you had been offered all the heca- 
tombs which have for centuries smoked with blood, they 
would be worthless compared with this "offering of the 
body of Jesus Christ once for all." All that is°compre- 

hended in the great salvation becomes yours by faith. 

To this faith you have long felt yourselves "shut up." 

And now to-day while it is called to-day— from how 
many voices— the voices of reason, conscience, the Holy 
Spirit in your own bosoms, the voices of the redeemed in 
glory who have been saved by his precious blood, the 
voices of the lost in hell who perished because they ne- 
glected that blood— from how many voices peals upon 
you the exhortation of our text, "Behold the Lamb of 
God which taketh away the sin of the world." " Look 
unto him and be saved." 

A look of penitence; can you look on him whom your 
sins have pierced and not mourn for him, and be in bit- 
terness for your vileness and ingratitude? 

A look of faith; though the sins of all the world were on 
you,— the sins of the old world,— of Sodom and Gomor- 
rah—of all the guilty generations which have insulted 
and blasphemed the God of heaven and sunk into per- 
dition—though all were crushing you down ;— here is a 
sacrifice which can pluck you as a brand from the burn- 
ing, and raise you to glory, honor and immortality. 



148 Elchard Fuller s Sermons. 



A direct look; do not be averting your eyes to your 
prayers, your promises, your reformations; nothing can 
avail but the blood of the Lamb, and that is all sufficient. 
If you turn your back to the sun, your shadow will 
stretch out before you. Wheel around, and the shadow 
is gone. So, while you turn from Christ, you will see 
only your unworthiness and vileness. Look to him, and 
you will see only his dazzling merit and righteousness. 

In fine, a look of hope, confidence, joy. John was a 
voice crying in the wilderness, preparing the way of the 
Lord; and such a voice hath been heard in your bosom. 
Sorrow hath saddened your being, affliction hath made 
your heart desolate, or convictions have shed gloom over 
your mind; and, now, that the way has been prepared, 
the Holy Spirit is seeking to glorify Jesus in your soul. 
Listen to his voice ; welcome him who is waiting to com- 
fort, to sanctify you, and who will never cast you off. 

Christians, my beloved brethren, what shall I say to 
you? As John pointed his disciples to Jesus, so my 
highest ambition is to direct your faith to him, and to 
keep it forever settled there. It is little to say that the 
word " Behold " is a note of admiration. True, all other 
objects are turned into insignificance, compared with this 
prodigy. "He was seen of angels ;" their admiring gaze 
was fixed upon incarnate Deity, upon "Emmanuel, God 
with us" — a mystery more amazing than any which 
heaven could present. But it is not only with admira- 
tion, it is with appropriating faith, with joy unspeakable 
and full of glory, that you behold the Lamb of God. 

He may be as a root out of dry ground to others, but 
to you he is "the chiefest among ten thousand and alto- 
gether lovely." Your eyes have been opened to discover 
the greatness and suitableness and beauty of this majestic 
substitute who offers himself to Eternal Justice for you. 
Upon him you have cast your souls with all their hopes 
and interests. x\nd now let me remind you, that in him 
is all your spiritual life, and from him you must derive 
all your spiritual strength. In the eleventh chapter of 
Hebrews the apostle surrounds us with an illustrious 
galaxy of the faithful, and proposes them to our contem- 
plation. Soon, however, in the twelfth chapter, he bids 



The Lamb of God. 149 



us concentrate our gaze not on them, but on Jesus. — 
Nor is it enough that you have looked to him, you must 
still be looking unto Jesus. The fire in the temple was 
from heaven, but it needed to be fed. Make him the ob- 
ject to which you always look first and midst and last; 
and let all the charms of this earth be despised, when 
they would come in competition with his loveliness. — 
Look earnestly at him; with intense, longing desires to 
know more of his love, to enjoy more of his friendship. — 
Look steadfastly at him; not with affections which are 
ever wavering between him and the world, but with ha- 
bitual, unremitted devotion. Let the blood of Christ be 
warm in your hearts. Let the love of Christ constrain 
you; let it be the motive of all your services and self- 
denials. It is love which not only sweetens our sacrifices, 
but makes them acceptable to God. Let the fullness of 
Christ cause you to exult in those treasures which are 
yours. He is wisdom for your ignorance, strength for 
your weakness, righteousness for your guilt, sanctifica- 
tion for your corruption, redemption from all the thral- 
dom of your apostasy. 

Do you lament the hardness of your heart? behold the 
Lamb of God, and you will feel that obduracy dissolving 
in ingenuous grief and tenderness. Are you tempted to 
yield to sin ? behold the Lamb of God, and you will cast 
away in horror the cup crimsoned with his blood. Are 
you cold and withered in your affections? behold the 
Lamb of God; the purple shower which falls from the 
cross is to the soul what dew and rain are to the parched 
fields. The trials and sorrows of life, are these grievous 
to you ? do you sometimes murmur at these ? Behold the 
Lamb of God. Think of his sorrows; and you will ex- 
claim, " My light afflictions which are but for a moment." 
The painful separations and humiliations of obedience, — 
you wish at times to shrink from these; but turn your 
eye to him who for you "endured the cross, despising the 
shame;" and you will "take pleasure in reproaches, in 
necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ's sake;" 
you will esteem the reproach of Christ greater riches than 
all the treasures of the universe. 



150 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

I feel, however, that I will never have done. "In him 
dwelleth all the fullness of the Godhead bodily." As all 
light is garnered in the sun, so all the affluence of Deity 
is treasured up in this Lamb of God, that we maybe en- 
riched from him. While life lasts, behold him, Chris- 
tian, and you can want nothing. When death comes, be- 
hold him, and you will fear nothing. Stephen saw 
"heaven opened," and his "face shone" because "he saw 
Jesus;" and fixing your eye upon this loadstar of eternity, 
your parting soul will be irradiated with celestial glory. 
Nor will your gaze cease after death. It will be only 
clearer, more adoring, more ravishing; and how pleas- 
ant to behold the Lamb in the midst of the throne; after 
all the contempt, insult, injury heaped upon him here, to 
see him crowned with glory, encircled by the praises of 
eternity. 

Ye blessed inhabitants of heaven, ye spirits of the just 
made perfect, ye shining multitudes around the throne, 
ye ten thousand times ten thousand and thousands of 
thousands, and numbers without number, — we hear from 
afar your pealing anthems ; and worthy is he — that peer- 
less Lamb — of all your noblest worship. But not always 
shall we be detained here upon this sad earth, compelled 
thus to listen at a distance to your choral harmonies. — 
The term of our exile will soon be over; and we too shall 
see him whom our souls love. We are coining. We are 
coming. Sinners like yourselves and washed in the same 
blood, w T e are coming; through clouds and storms we are 
cleaving our way and pressing on to you. Soon shall we 
join your exulting throng. Soon shall we stand in } r our 
midst, gazing as you gaze upon his beauty ; adoring him 
as you adore him ; casting our crowns at his feet as you 
cast yours; and with hallelujahs long and loud and trans- 
porting as yours, crying, "Worthy is the Lamb!" "Unto 
him that loved us and washed us from our sins in his 
own blood, and hath made us kings and priests unto 
God and his Father, to him be glory and dominion, for- 
ever and ever, Amen." 



The Redeemer's Agony and Prayer. 151 



icrmott Jltutft- 



THE REDEEMER'S AGONY AND 
PRAYER. 

"And he went a little further and fell on his face and prayed, saying", 
O my Father, if it be possible let this cup pass from me, nevertheless 
not as I will, but as thou wilt. - ' " And there appeared an angel unto 
him from heaven strengthening him. And being in an agony he prayed 
more earnestly ; and his sweat was as it were great drops of blood fall- 
ing down to the ground." Matt, xxvi : 39. Luke xxii: 43, 44. 

T^HE entire Gospel — all its salvation, its doctrines, its 
-*- practical piety — is comprehended in two great 
truths: the atonement, and the example of Jesus. With- 
out the atonement a sinner can never satisfy the demands 
of justice — no matter how profuse his tears, how pro- 
found his repentance, how unstinted his charity. But 
vainly do we profess to have faith in the blood of Christ, 
unless by our characters and lives we attest the vitality 
of that faith; unless we obey him who says, "If any 
man will be my disciple, let him deny himself and take 
up his cross and follow me." 

I. It is in this twofold aspect the texts just read 
present Jesus to our meditations. Let us develop these 
passages; and, contemplating the adorable Redeemer, 
first, as offering himself a sacrifice for our sins, let us 
study his mysterious sufferings in the garden, and the 
prayer extorted from him by his anguish. 

In the verse quoted from Matthew we have the Sa- 
viour's first prayer. "And he went a little further, and 
fell on his face and prayed, saying, my Father, if it be 



possible, let this cup pass from me ; nevertheless not * 
I will, but as thou wilt." Now what was this "cup? 



152 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

and what is the meaning of this imploring supplication 
wrung from the adorable sufferer by the first taste of its 
bitterness ? 

To comprehend the answer to these most important 
questions, we must recollect that when "the Word was 
made flesh," Jesus took our humanity with all its infirm- 
ities, and was in all things fashioned as we are, only 
without the taint of sin. As the divine nature con Id not 
share in the weakness of the human nature, so it did not 
communicate its strength and glory to that nature. The 
man Jesus grew up from childhood, and his was that 
frail, forlorn humanity which, in its highest vigor and 
beauty, is " crushed before the moth," and is compared 
by the Scriptures to the grass that withereth in a day, 
to the flower that fades before the blast. This humanity, 
we know, is greatly dependent upon sympathy, cries out 
for sympathy in its trials and sorrows, and yearns for 
sympathy in proportion to its refinement. Jesus assumed 
our nature with this element in all its most intense solici- 
tude. The scene in Gethsemane reminds us of this; for 
he takes with him the three apostles in whom he found 
most congeniality, and again and again, he turns to them 
in the anguish of his spirit. 

Add, too, the fearful power of temptation over beings 
constituted as we are; and that upon Him were concen- 
trated and exhausted all the unsearchable artifices of the 
Tempter. I mention this, because there can be no doubt 
that on this eventful night the whole power of the arch- 
enemy was spent in a final assault upon the Son of God. 
After the temptation in the wilderness it is said, "The 
Devil departed from him for a season ;" — language which 
intimates that he would one day renew his hellish attack. 
In anticipation of this very scene Jesus said, "The Prince 
of this world cometh and hath nothing in me." "This 
is your hour and the power of darkness." And we may 
form some conception of the terribleness of the conflict, 
when we see him literally resisting unto blood ; and when 
we remember the energy with which he seeks to forearm 
his drowsy disciples, — coming to them after each succes- 
sive encounter, and uttering that earnest admonition, — 



The Redeemer's Agony and Prayer. l.VJ 

" Watch aud pray that ye enter not into temptation ; the 
spirit indeed is willing but the flesh is weak." 

If you enter into these truths you will be prepared to 
interpret, though, of course, very inadequately, the recoil 
and cry of the Saviour's humanity amidst the mysterious 
horrors of the garden. It is said that he was "in an 
agony." The term agony means a severe struggle. — 
His agony was a struggle between human weakness and 
the terrific views then disclosed to his soul of that death 
which was at hand; — a death in which he was to be im- 
molated as a sacrifice for sin, and to exhaust the penalties 
of the law. 

Let us entertain correct views upon a subject so im- 
portant and yet so mysterious. To die in sin is a fear- 
ful thing, because we carry within us the sense of moral 
pollution, because the conscience is filled with remorse 
for personal guilt, because the soul is oppressed by a 
"fearful looking for of judgment and fiery indignation." 
I need not tell you that for the " Holy, Harmless and 
Undefiled," death had none of these poisoned faugs. — 
He could confidently challenge the malignity of the world 
and say, " Which of you accuseth me of sin ?" Death is 
formidable because the devil, "who hath the power of 
death," terrifies the soul with his suggestions ; but the 
accuser could "find nothing in him." Amidst the an- 
guish of Gethsemane and the desolation of Calvary, he 
addresses his Father in all the filial confidence of a dear- 
ly beloved son. It is still "my Father," " my God." He 
" knew that he came from God and went to God." 

But, though Jesus "knew no sin," he was made "sin 
for us." He suffered "the just for the unjust." "He 
was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for 
our iniquities; the chastisement of our peace was upon 
him, and with his stripes we are healed." By his inter- 
position in our behalf "he tasted death for every man." 
— death as " the wages of sin." Never can we compre- 
hend the* mental wretchedness with which his soul was 
smitten and convulsed, but this we know ; that "he bare 
our sins in his own body on the tree;" that to each man 
"the sting of death is sin;" and myriads of these 



154 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 



venomed stings pierced and lacerated the very core of 
his heart. 

The agony of that dismal night was not, as many sup- 
pose, the effect of some transient grief which then op- 
pressed the Saviour's mind ; it was caused by the clear 
apprehensions he bad of the cross and the terrible sacri- 
fice he was about to offer on that altar. Upon this point 
we are not left to speculation or conjecture. The in- 
spired record gives us direct information. It declares 
that "in the days of his flesh he offered up prayers and 
supplications, with strong crying and tears, unto him 
that was able to save him from death, and was heard in 
that he feared.-' The Scriptures constantly testify, that 
to die for our sins was the very purpose for which Christ 
Jesus came into the world. This death he himself, more 
than once, designated as "the cup " of which he was to 
drink. During all his ministry this consummation was 
in his thoughts; its anticipation mingled even with 
the splendors of Mount Tabor; for the celestial visitants 
there spake with him "of his decease which he should 
accomplish at Jerusalem;" and as his weary pilgrimage 
wore on, it cast a bleak shadow over all his deportment, 
a sadness which at times deepened into gloom. Only 
four days before the present crisis, he exclaimed, "Now 
is my soul troubled, and what shall I say? Father save 
me from this hour." Scarcely, however, has this prayer 
escaped his burdened heart, before his faith hastens after 
it and recalls it; and he says, "But for this cause came 
I unto this hour. Father glorify thy name! Then 
came there a voice from heaven saying, 1 have both 
glorified it, and will glorify it again." 

But now, in the garden, there rises upon his vision an 
overwhelming prospect of the dreadful catastrophe. It 
had been at some distance in all his former antici- 
pations ; now the dismal tragedy is about to commence. 
Before, he had been sustained by the presence and love 
of his friends; now he is entirely alone, all contact with 
human sympathy has ceased. It is the hour when the 
Son of Man is betrayed into the hands of sinners; it is 
"the hour and the power of darkness." He is brought 
to the mouth of the terrible raging furnace into which 
he must enter; before which his feeble human nature 



The Redeemer's Afjony and Prayer. 155 

faints and fails like grass in a heated oven. How ex- 
cruciating was his anguish, we may judge from the 
sacred narrative in which there can he no exaggeration. 
••He began to be sore amazed, and to be very heavy, and 
saitli unto them, My soul is exceeding sorrowful even 
unto death ;" meaning by this last expression, that 
" the sorrows of deatli compassed him, and the pains of 
hell were getting hold upon him." And see, too, the 
effects upon his physical frame. Again and again had 
he defied all the power of his enemies, encountering their 
insults and violence with calm intrepidity; but no sooner 
do his lips touch the brim of this cup and sip its first 
drop, than his flesh and heart quail, and he falls to the 
earth upon his face. Hunger, thirst, fatigue, pain, seemed 
to make no impression upon his vigorous human consti- 
tution ; but now, although the night is cold, (John 
xviii : 18) his body is bathed in sweat, and that sweat is 
blood gushing from every pore. 

What seems at first, however, to be most surprising in 
this history is the Saviour's prayer ; for did he really de- 
sire that the mission upon which he came might be de- 
feated ? that the atonement might not be finished ? — 
Perish such a thought ! Had he so willed, the awful 
drama would at once have been arrested. In reference 
to his crucifixion, he uttered this imperial language, "I 
lay down my life for the sheep. Therefore doth my Fa- 
ther love me, because I lav down my life that I may take 
it again. Xo man taketh it from me, but I lay it down 
of myself. I have power to lay it down, and I have power 
to take it again." " Thinkest thou that I cannot now pray 
to my Father and he shall presently give me twelve le- 
gions of angels ?" In a word, he had not yet been seized; 
the spot was lonely; it was towards midnight; and had 
he chosen to do so. he might easily have eluded his en- 
emies. 

It is certain then that in the steadfast soul of the Re- 
deemer there was no shrinking from the sublime enter- 
prise to which he had devoted himself. But if this were 
so, what is the meaning of his prayer that, "if possible 
the cup might pass away " ? As already intimated, many 
commentators get rid of this seeming"difficulty by sup- 



156 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

posing that the prayer refers to some momentary gloom 
pressing upon the Saviour's spirit ; but this is plainly a 
mistake. By the " cup " he clearly intends the sore tra- 
vail of his soul in the approaching sacrifice. Instead, 
then, of seeking to explain away a fact which is incon- 
testable, let us attempt to penetrate its depths and to in- 
terpret the truths it teaches. 

For this purpose let me again remind you that Jesus 
was as truly human as he was divine. "Forasmuch as 
the children are partakers of flesh and blood, he also took 
part of the same." He assumed our nature ; and 
in the experience of this nature, no matter how purified 
and elevated, it is one thing for the heroic spirit to devote 
itself with generous enthusiasm to a fearful sacrifice, and 
quite another thing for the weak flesh actually to 
endure the extremity without any fainting. The baptism 
may be longed for, and yet there may be a shivering 
when the cold waters go over our heads. In the eternal 
counsels it was deemed necessary that the adorable victim 
should fully comprehend the bitter passion of the cross. 
From us God mercifully conceals the future with its suf- 
ferings; but in the substitution of an innocent person 
for the guilty, it was indispensable that the self-im- 
molation should be voluntary, and with a clear appre- 
hension of the consequences. 

Some foresight of his sufferings had before brought 
the soul of Jesus into a paroxysm of conflict and prayer. 
"The hour is come that. the Son of Man should be glori- 
fied." " Now is my soul troubled, and what shall I say ? 
Father save me from this hour; but for this cause came 
I unto this hour. Father, glorify thy name." That, 
however, was only a transient glimpse of the approaching 
storm; now all its waves and billows are about to go over 
him. 

Not only, therefore, was the Eedeemer's oblation of 
himself the result of ancient, deliberate purpose, so that 
he was " The Lamb slain before the foundation of the 
world," but he was made to taste some prelibations of 
the mysterious chalice; his soul groaned with the pre- 
monitory pains of its bitter travail. Hence the terrible 
agony which convulsed his *-• " His weak humanity 



The Redeemer's Agony and Prayer. 157 

recoiled from the fierceness of the winepress which lie 
was to tread alone; his sinless, immortal humanity re- 
sented the loathsome approaches of such a death — an ig- 
nominious death, and the death of a criminal. For a 
moment the conflict was so dreadful that his heart and 
his flesh cried out to the living God in sobs and prayers, 
in "strong crying and tears." These tears are not men- 
tioned in the narrative, but they intensify our conceptions 
of the forlornness and wretchedness of his spirit. From 
the depths of his human nature, thus rent and torn, as- 
cends the supplication we are examining, "0 my Father, 
if it be possible, let this cup pass from me, nevertheless 
not as I will but as thou wilt." That cup was charged 
with ingredients which only Eternal Justice could have 
collected, and no mere mortal could sip one drop of its 
wormwood and live. The afflicting thunders of divine 
wrath were now to be quenched in his blood. He was 
placed before the very jaws of the pit, with hell vomiting 
its sulphurous smoke, and dashing its red lightnings in 
his face. Into a few hours were to be condensed miseries 
which should equal the everlasting damnation due 
to our sins. And amidst these torments he was to be 
forsaken by his Father, suffering a suspension of that in- 
effable communion which from eternity had been to him 
the source and essence of celestial beatitude. This hor- 
rible tempest was now about to pour its vengeance upon 
his solitary spirit. And — his nature shrinking as the 
ghastly deluge begins to discharge itself — he prays that 
" if it be possible" if his Father's glory and man's sal- 
vation can be otherwise secured — the storm might p>ass 
away. 

You now comprehend the Redeemer's prayer; and, 
thus understood, it ought often to engage our devout 
reflections and be made the subject of our adoring med- 
itation. 

While listening to the sobbings and cryingsof Gethse- 
mane, who can help feeling that sin and its punishment 
are things appalling and horrible ? As we behold the 
amazement and consternation of the Redeemer at the 
execution of that sentence for which he had been con- 
stantly preparing, what fearful presentiments insinuate 

7 



158 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

themselves into our minds as to the doom of those who 
die in their sins. Again, how impossible is the salvation 
of sinners except through the atonement. How passing 
knowledge is the love of him, who amidst such dreari- 
ness and agony, still thought of man, and would not let 
the cup pass, if our redemption required him to drink it. 
In short, the exceeding great and precious assurances of 
the Gospel, that all the blessings of time and eternity 
are ours, if we are Christ's; "He that spared not his own 
Son, but delivered him up for us all, how shall he not 
with him also freely give us all things." 

I read just now that remarkable verse from the 
Epistle to the Hebrews, in which the apostle speaks of 
the strong crying and tears of the Eedeemer. In that 
passage it is said, "He was heard in that he feared ;" the 
cry of his human weakness in its mortal distress was 
answered. But how was this, since he prayed to him 
who. was able to deliver him from death and was not de- 
livered from death? Luke explains this point, he in- 
forms us as to this answer. " There appeared an angel 
unto him from heaven, strengthening him." And, now, 
see the effect of this celestial invigoration of his fainting 
humanity. 

Observe it in the two prayers which he afterwards ut- 
tered. We usually suppose that he repeated his first pe- 
tition; but this is entirely to misunderstand the teach- 
ings of the Holy Spirit. Luke simply relates the visit 
of the angel, adding this remark, " And being in an 
agony he prayed more earnestly" — more earnestly than in 
the first prayer. But Matthew records the words of the 
second supplication, and also of the third. "He went 
away again the second time, and prayed, saying, my Fa- 
ther, if this cup may not pass away from me except I drink 
it, thy will be done. And he came and found them 
asleep again ; for their eyes were heavy. And he left 
them and went away again and prayed the third time, 
saying the same words." Stung by the thorn in his flesh, 
Paul thrice besought the Lord that it might depart from 
him; each request terminating in himself; and the 
answer was, "My grace is sufficient for thee." It was 
only in the first terrible agony that Jesus prayed with 



The Redeemers Agony and Prayer. 159 

any reference to his own misery; and then be added 
these words, " Nevertheless not as T will, but as thou 
wilt." He is reminded by the heavenly messenger, that 
the cup cannot pass, and the purposes of the atonement 
beaccomplished. His weak human nature is "strength- 
ened," too, by this radiant ministry. And immediately 
every thought of himself is forever banished. He now 
prays "more earnestly" than he had done for himself, 
that his Father's will may be done at whatever cost tohim. 
" If this cup" (since this cup) "may not pass away from 
me except I drink it, thy. will be done." This is his only 
petition; and he utters this "more earnestly" — with 
more intense fervor than his first supplication, though 
that had been with "strong crying and tears." He has 
now extraordinary views of the terrible consequences to 
man. if the sacrifice be not consummated. He has also 
been made to feel the feebleness of his humanity, its 
absolute dependence upon supernatural succor. There- 
fore with redoubled earnestness, again and again, he 
prays that he might be supported, that his Father might 
be glorified upon the earth, and his church be redeemed 
by his blood. 

You see, then, in the two prayers succeeding it, what 
efficacy there was in this angelic visit. The celestial 
vigor it infused is still more striking in the Saviour's 
subsequent conduct. Calm, collected, filled with divine 
intrepidity, he goes to meet his executioners. Pointing 
to the band whose torches were now beginning to flash 
among the dark olive branches, he says to his disciples, 
" The hour is come ; behold the Son of Man is betrayed 
into the hands of sinners. Eise up, let us go, lo he that 
betrayeth me is at hand." Confronting the company of 
armed soldiers, he announces himself with a majesty so 
commanding, that these veterans quail and fall to the 
earth before the mysterious power of his presence. Demand- 
ing that his disciples should not be harmed, he at once 
surrenders himself. And when Peter attempts a rescue, 
he rebukes him, saying, "Put up thy sword into its 
sheath ; the cup which my Father hath given me shall I 
not drink it ?" What followed, it is unnecessary for me 
to tell you; for you know how he did drink that cup; 



160 Ricliard Fuller's Sermons. 

how be stretched out his hand steadfastly, and took it 
and in silence drained every drop of the wormwood and gall 
in that terrible chalice. 6 'H> drank at the hand of the 
Lord the cup of his fury, drank the dregs of the cup of 
trembling, and wrung them out;" that we might "take 
the cup of salvation and call upon the name of the Lord." 
He went meekly forth to the judgment, went as a lamb 
to the slaughter, was dumb as a sheep before her shearers, 
was oppressed, was afflicted, yet opened not his mouth ; 
that we might be healed by his stripes, that before 
the dread tribunal we might not be speechless, but might, 
with unspeakable joy and assurance exclaim, " Who 
shall lay arything to the charge of God's elect? it is 
God that justineth. Who is he that condemneth ? it 
is Christ that died, yea rather that is risen again, who is 
even at the right hand of God, who also maketh inter- 
cession for us." 

II. Thus far we have been "considering him" who 
was called Jesus because he would deliver his people 
from their sins. I pass now to the other aspect in which 
we proposed to contemplate this adorable Being, regard- 
ing him as our example — as the model of that temper 
which becomes a child of God at all times, but especially 
when called to suffer affliction. 

Studied in Gethsemane, the example of Jesus is 
unspeakably precious and consoling because it throws a 
sanction and sacredness over feelings which stern 
casuists have condemned as sinful. In the perfect human- 
ity of the Redeemer we here find sensibilities which 
quail at the prospect, or shrink under the pressure of 
calamities and sufferings. " My son, despise not thou the 
chastening of the Lord, neither faint when thou art 
rebuked of him;" such is the admonition addressed to 
those who are called to mourn; but let us never suppose 
that any censure is conveyed by this exhortation. No ; 
it is the tender language of a Father who pities his poor 
children, knowing their frame and remembering that 
they are dust. And in the history before us we see this 
infirmity and fainting in him whose whole conduct is an 
illustration of perfect submission to the divine will. 



The Redeemer's Agony and Prayer. 161 

If we are Christians at all, this is certain, that our 
fears and distresses will cause us to cast our burdens 
upon the Lord; solitary prayer will be our instinctive 
resource. Like Jesus, we will, indeed, desire the sympa- 
thy of the few who love us; but, like him, we will turn 
from all human comforters and roll our anguished spirit 
upon God,— upon the compassions of our Heavenly 
Father. And while thus pouring out our hearts before 
him, while we are not to be peremptory, Ave may be im- 
portunate; it is natural, it is proper to pray that we may 
be spared or delivered ; it is right to say, if it be possi- 
ble, let this cup pass away." 

For afflictions are not in themselves blessings, they are 
evils from which we ought to shrink. "No chastening 
for the present is joyous, but grievous." Nay, afflictions 
may become temptations ; " Give me not poverty lest I 
steal." In a word, our very natures deprecate pain and 
sorrow. It is, therefore, proper to say, "0 my Father, 
if it be possible let this cup pass from me." If it be pos- 
sible, spare me this bitter bereavement which threatens 
to rend from my heart this parent, this sister, this wife, 
this child, who is dearer to me than life itself. If it be 
possible, heal this disease which has stretched me upon 
a bed of languishing, which seems about to hurry me 
to the tomb, or to doom me to years of protracted misery. 
If it be possible, avert from me these reverses and losses 
which are impending, which should cast suspicion upon 
my character, and consign my children to all the humil- 
iations and temptations of poverty. If it be possible, 
deliver me from this visitation which has crippled me 
for thy work, and keeps me from that service which is 
my meat and my drink, my strength, consolation, joy, 
and for which alone I desire to live. Thou knowest, 
Lord of hosts, how amiable to me are thy taberna- 
cles ; how my soul longeth, yea even fainteth for the 
courts of the Lord ; how my heart and my llesh cry out 
for the living God ; how 1 esteem those blessed who 
dwell in thy house, and envy the sparrow and the swal- 
low that can frequent thine altars. My King, my God, 
my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass away : save 
me from these dumb !Sai>baths which are killing me, from 



162 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

these voiceless sermons and prayers and exhortations 
which burn like fire in my bones. * 

In this recoiling, these entreaties, there is nothing 
criminal. Still, however, just in proportion to the depth 
of our piety, will be our spirit of submission, nay our 
preference of the divine will to our own. Even in the 
Saviour's first agony, amidst the wail for help wrung 
out of his soul by the first crushing blow of the tempest, 
we find the predominance of filial submission; and 
soon there was in him the entire supremacy of his Fa- 
ther's will. When pain and anguish take hold upon us, 
our wills may for a while mutiny. But as we receive 
light and strength, we will be "still;" — we will 
calm our ruffled spirits ; we will quell every 
murmur; with a love which casts out fear and 
gives God our unlimited confidence Ave will exclaim, 
"The cup which my Father hath given me, shall I not 
drink it?" And as the Saviour's entire sanctification 
of himself to the sacrifice was rendered more glorious by 
his previous agony, so our submission will give more 
honor to God, and bring richer fruits into our own souls 
because it is a victory to which we passed through the 
bitterest conflict. 

I know, my brethren, that to " stand perfect and com- 
plete in all the will of God" is no easy attainment. 
Sometimes we are called to acquiesce in dispensations 
where all is inscrutable, as to which "clouds and dark- 
ness are round about him," and we exclaim, Verily thou 
art a God that hideth thyself." Jesus requires his dis- 
ciples to adjourn to another period the solution of some 
things which he does in this present economy. It still 
pleases the Father to bruise many of his dearest chil- 
dren. God has had but one Son without sin; never one 
without sorrow ; and sometimes our hearts are tempted 
to murmur and repine. It was not for nothing that 
Jesus said "Blessed are they who shall not be offended 
in me." For how many of those dear to him measure 

* This sermon was preached, April 12, 1862, after a severe 
inflammation of the throat which had prevented the author from 
preaching for several Sabbaths. • 



The Redeemer's Agony and Prayer. 1 63 

the length of their pilgrimage by the graves they leave 1 
behind them. How many drag on their days bleakly and 
heavily — their years all winters. How many see all their 
purposes broken off, their hopes withered ; and to them 
God appoints care-worn aspects, and hearts cleft by 
silent but sharp endurance. How many, wasted by dis- 
ease, or consumed by hidden grief, grow old in youth, 
and sink into the valley of years, bending, not under 
age, but misery. How many go to weep at tombs 
which have made the whole world a tomb to them ; — 
standing over which they feel that for them the bright- 
ness of life, the bitterness of death are passed. In short, 
how many find life one incessant struggle, one scene 
of toil and suffering, in which they can hope for nothing 
from earth, and can only seek not to reel and sink under 
breach after breach by which they are broken. 

But it is the very office of faith to sustain the soul 
when flesh and heart are failing. Amidst gloomy clouds 
and chilling blasts faith can say, "Why art thou cast 
down, my soul" — Jesus is thine, the promises are thine, 
the consolations of God are thine, eternal glory is thine, 
and thou, thou art dejected! — " Why art thou cast down, 
my soul, and why art thou disquieted within me? 
Hope thou in God, for I shall yet pra ; se him who is the 
health of my countenance and my God." Now, in the 
darkest night, faith can see and feel an angel strength- 
ening us to bear what God sends. And one day an angel 
will roll the stone away, and from out the grave where 
we thought all our hope and joys had been buried, shall 
come forth their resurrection, their life. "Neverthe- 
less, not my will, but thine be done." AVe have seen 
what the Saviour's ")ievcrtlicless" comprehended — 
what an eternity of wretchedness was concentrated in that 
word ; and whatever may be the import of our " never- 
theless" whatever we are called to endure, let us remem- 
ber that we "suffer according to the will of God ;" " let 
the same mind be in us which was also in Christ Jesus; " 
"let us humble ourselves under the mighty hand of God, 
that he may exalt us in due time, casting all our care 
upon him, for he careth for us." Let us consider him 
who endured such things for us, lest at any time we be 



164 Br chard Fuller 's Sermons. 

weary and faint in our minds. And let us not only 
contemplate, but let us follow him who hath left us an 
example that we should walk in his steps. 

Two traits in the character of the Redeemer are espe- 
cially brought out in the history before us, and these 
ought to be the peculiar objects of study and imitation to 
us. The first is his habitual sense of his Father's pres- 
ence and love. Amidst all the solitariness and anguish 
of G-ethsemane this filial confidence was never for a mo- 
ment interrupted ; nay, his communion with his Father 
became more intimate and earnest as darkness and sorrow 
gathered over him. 

When he crossed the brook and entered the scene of 
that dismal tragedy he took the eleven with him. Ad- 
vancing further into the shades of the garden, he is ac- 
companied by only Peter and James and John. But 
they must stop ; they cannot penetrate the depths amidst 
whose gloom his mysterious agony bows him to the 
earth, and forces a crimson sweat through his pores. — 
There, only one can be with him; it is his Father. " Ye 
shall leave me alone, and yet I am not alone, for my Fa- 
ther is with me." 

Now in this sense of loneliness and want of human 
sympathy, Ave must have fellowship with him, and we 
ought instinctively to ascend to the same source of 
strength and consolation. In its deepest sorrows and 
conflicts every human spirit must be alone. Earthly 
friendship and companionship may go some way in their 
sympathy ; they may cross Cedron with us. Christian 
love may go still further; it may enter Gethsemane. But 
when "the strong hour conquers us;" when afflictions 
rend the soul, — driving the blood through the pores of 
the heart, if not of the body, — and when, in this hour of 
darkness and weakness, the violence of temptation wrings 
from us strong crying and tears; then, oh then, we must 
be entirely alone. For each heart knows its own bitter- 
ness. Its trials and sorrows are made up of things 
which the dearest human affection cannot share, cannot 
know. But God knows all ; and if we would be sustained, 
Ave must cultivate the filial, confiding spirit of Jesus. — 
If we Avould not be moved, Ave must set the Lord always 



The Redeetner's Agony and Prayer. 165 

before us, as a Father pitying our infirmities, listening to 
the voice of our weeping ; we must hear him saying to 
us, "Fear not I am with thee, when thou passest through 
the waters they shall not overflow thee, when thou walk- 
est through the fire thou shalt not be burned, neither 
shall the flames kindle upon thee." 

The other grace emphatically commended to us by this 
passage in the Saviour's life is his perfect resignation to 
his Father's will or, rather, his adoring preference of 
that will, even when smitten by the most inscrutable and 
overwhelming wretchedness. Under the first appalling 
burst of the tempest his cry is, " Xot as I will, but as 
thou wilt;" and as the storm beats upon his uncovered 
head with accumulating fury, he prays, with increasing 
earnestness, that not his will but his Father's may be 
done. Let us cultivate this spirit. Eest assured that 
living upon "every word which proceedem out of the 
mouth of God," living upon God's will revealed or unre- 
vealed, acquiescing in that will because it is the will of 
God, and thus rising above our joys and sorrows to God 
himself — this is the only, the heavenly secret of peace, 
holiness, happiness. We must lose ourselves in God's 
supremacy; and then shall be realized in us that promise, 
"Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is 
stayed on thee, because he trusteth in thee." All impa- 
tience arises from ignorance of God and of ourselves. — 
"Be still and know that I am God." "Acquaint now 
thyself with him and be at peace, thereby good shall 
come unto thee." The love, the wisdom of that Father 
whom Jesus here teaches us to trust and reverence, his 
parental designs in all his chastisements, — let these 
thoughts penetrate our souls and bring them into unfal- 
tering submission under every dispensation. 

" My will :" blindness, weakness, selfishness. "Thy 
will:" the decisions of him who is perfectly right in all 
his ways — of whose throne righteousness and judgment 
are the habitations, though clouds and darkness may be 
round about him; — would I thwart these decisions and 
prefer confusion and disorder ? the plans of him who is 
the only wise God, who alone knows what is best for me; 
— shall I seek to defeat these plans, and to follow my own 

7* 



166 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

ignorance? In a word, infinite love and mercy which 
are engaged to cause all things to work together for my 
good, and by exposure, suffering, experience, to elevate 
me to a higher life and build np all that is spiritual and 
glorious in my nature ; the will of that Saviour who, in 
full view of the dreadful inundation about to go over him, 
" endured the cross and despised the shame" for me 
while I was yet an enemy; the will of that God who, 
amidst the anguish of the garden and the cross, spared 
not his own Son, but delivered him up for me; — how can 
I resist all this? — how can I ever doubt this mercy and 
love? "The cup that my Father hath given me, shall I 
not drink it?" -" Yea, though he slay me, vet will I trust 
him." 

In conclusion, let the subject upon which we have 
been meditating convince us how vain are all hopes that 
any can be saved except through the great atonement. — 
If in the jurisprudence of heaven this had been "possi- 
ble," such a victim would not have been stretched upon 
such an altar. "There is salvation in none other, for 
there is no other name under heaven given among men 
whereby we must be saved." Come, then, my friend, 
come just as you are ; come now, and cast your guilty, 
helpless soul on him who hath paid the full price of re- 
demption. Nor let any sense of sin deter you. Never 
again can an audience be assembled so steeped in guilt 
as that which was addressed by Peter on the day of Pen- 
tecost ; yet speaking to them — their lips dripping with 
blasphemy — their hands red with the blood of the Lord 
of Glory — hear him say "Repent and be baptized every 
one of you in the name of Jesus for the remission of sius" 
— " every one of you." But I am the wretch who suborned 
Judas to betray him and paid him the thirty pieces of 
silver ; — "Every one of you." But I led the band at mid- 
night into the garden and seized him as a malefactor; — 
" Every one of you." But I conducted him to Pilate's 
bar, I dragged him to Herod's hall, and there stripped 
him, and put the robj upon him, and pressed the thorns 
into his brow, and struck him in the l'aee and spit upon 
him; — " Every one of you." But I followed him through 
the streets and joined the infuriated rabble in jeering and 



The Redeemers Agony and Prayer. 167 



insulting and cursing him, as he moved slowly along 
Lending under the cruel load ; — "Every one of you.'' — 
But I laid the cross upon the ground, and stretched that 
sacred form upon it and drove the spikes through his 
mangled and quivering hands and feet; — "Every one of 
yon." But I plunged the spear into his side, and the 
blood and water are upon my head to curse me forever ; 
— "Every one of you." — " Kepent and be baptized every 
one of you in the name of Jesus for the remission of sins." 
God can say, can do nothing more to assure the vilest 
that in the atonement there is present, full eternal salva- 
tion for them. 

And let the example we have been studying raise our 
souls to a habitual, intelligent, filial acquiescence at all 
times and under every paternal chastisement. "Father, 
not my will but thine !" — this cry coming sincerely from 
the heart, is not only a prayer, but a prayer already an- 
swered. 

As to the past, let us cherish the spirit of resignation. 
We are prone, in looking back, to reproach ourselves, to 
afflict ourselves with vain regrets over something done or 
left undone. All these reflections are wrong; they savor 
of atheism by forgetting that all was ordered by unerring 
wisdom and unchanging love. Too sadly does experi- 
ence teach some of us the error of those who tell us that 
years will efface the impression made upon the heart by 
the strokes of affliction. Alas, where we have truly loved, 
time, instead of healing our wounds, is only like a river 
which is constantly deepening its channel. There is but 
one consolation in these bitter musings and retrospects ; 
it is to ascend at once to God, and to lose ourselves in 
him. "I was dumb; I opened not my mouth, because 
thou didst it." 

For the future, take no anxious thought. These 
gloomy forebodings are sinful, for they imply a want of 
confidence in God. Perfect love would cast out these 
tormenting fears. But they are still more foolish. They 
fill us with distress about evils which may never come; 
or which, if they do come, will bring with them strength 
for our day — the morrow thus caring for itself. 



168 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

And under present afflictions and trials, the habitual 
contemplation of a suffering Redeemer will be the most 
effectual antidote to all complaints, the most fruitful 
source of patience and filial submission. "Forasmuch 
then as Christ hath suffered in the flesh, arm yourselves 
with the same mind." Can we follow him — the holy, 
harmless, undefiled — as he crosses Cedron — :tnd falls 
convulsed upon the ground, filling the air of Gethsemane 
with his groans, — and as he expires upon the cross; — 
can we see him endure all this for us, and yet murmur 
at those sufferings which are needful for our souls? 
cup, which my Father gives me, however bitter, though 
thy portion be gall and wormwood, thou art medicine for 
my spiritual health and prosperity. May I have grace to 
feel that thou art welcome. May we all esteem it our 
highest honor and felicity to suffer with Jesus, that we 
may be glorified with him. 

To this adorable Redeemer, and to the Father of an 
infinite majesty, and to the Holy Spirit, be praise, wor- 
ship and glory forever. Amen. 




John 9 8 Message to Jesus. 161 



Sermon ffrntft* 



JOHN'S MESSAGE TO JESUS. 

"Art thou he that should come, or do we look for "another? Jesm 
answered anl sai I unto them, Go an 1 shew John a^ain those things 
which ye do hear and see-"— Matthew xi : 3, 4. 

"AS John fulfilled his course;" there is in this lan- 
-<-*- guage something very affecting and instructive. 
The beginning of a in ill's existence resembles the little 
well-spring of a stream whose course and destination 
none can foretell. Like rivers onward roll our lives. — 
We may be renowned or obscure; we may become bene- 
factors or scourges of our race; our career may be calm 
and bright, or dark and turbulent; but to each a period 
is allotted, after which we are confounded together in the 
tomb: — even as rivers the most celebrated and the most 
unknown, the tranquil and the impetuous, those which 
desolate and those which bless the earth, all traverse 
spaces accurately prescribed, and then mingle their wa- 
ters and lose their names and distinctions in the ocean. 

"John fulfilled his course;" and very pleasant it is to 
turn from the universal selfishness of our race, and to 
study the biography of such a man. He was indeed " a 
burning and a shining light;" and though his beams 
were quenched at noonday and in blood, yet hasting 
never, resting never, he bravelvand triumphantly accom- 
plished his glorious mission ; nor can we lift our eyes 
from the common range, the dead level of human char- 
acter to such courage, devotion, magnanimity, entire su- 
periority to all earthly appetites and passions, combined 
with such profound humility, without confessing, that 
of all who had been born of women, a greater than John 



170 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

had not appeared upon the scene of mortal affairs. It is 
strengthening, rejoicing to contemplate that, grand soul; 
but can there be a more substantial mortification than 
that which accompanies the consciousness, that we be- 
long to the same species, have the same faculties, enjoy 
vastly superior advantages, and yet are what we are. 

This heroic and extraordinary man was in prison, when 
he sent to Jesus a deputation of his disciples bearing the 
message recorded in the text: "Now when John had 
heard in prison, the works of Christ, he sent two of his 
disciples, and said unto him, Art thou he that should 
come or look we for another? Jesus answered and said 
unto them, Go and shew John again these things which 
ye do hear and see. The blind receive their sight, and 
the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear, 
the dead are raised up, and the poor have the Gospel 
preached to them. And blessed is he, whosoever is not 
offended in me." 

This question and its answer are so remarkable, that I 
shall make them the subject of our meditations to-day. 

I. "Art thou he that should come, or do we look for 
another?" This enquiry furnishes our first topic; and 
it deserves our closest attention, for what was John's mo- 
tive in sending such a message? We are at no loss to 
account for the variety of popular opinions as to Jesus; 
some saying that "he was John the Baptist; some, Elias; 
and others, Jeremias or one of the prophets." We at once 
penetrate, too, the hypocrisy of the Pharisees who said to 
him, "How long dost thou make us to doubt? If thou 
be the Christ tell us plainly." We every day hear peo- 
ple affecting doubts which are only pretexts for their 
sins, and seeking to lull their consciences by pre, ending 
that they are waiting for more light. But how are we 
to explain this enquiry coining from the great harbinger? 
Two solutions of the problem may be proposed, only two 
worthy of discussion. For, as to the supposition that 
John meant to upbraid and quicken him whom he knew 
to be the Messiah — it is such a charge of presumption, 
as ought not even to be mentioned in the pulpit. Let us 
examine these two interpretations. 



John's Message to Jesus 171 



Now taking the case simply as it is recorded, fehe first 
natural impression assuredly is, that some misgivings as 
to the Messiahship of Jesus had insinuated themselves 
into the mind of the Baptist. This i.lca is, however, in- 
dignantly rejected by most commentators, who maintain 
that it was not for himself, but for his disciples that John' 
sent this message; they were incredulous, and he sends 
them to Jeans that they may be convinced by him.— 
Inis is the common interpretation, and one pohit must 
certainly be conceded to its advocates. We must all see 
why Johns disciples would naturally discredit the 
claims of Jesus. Consider the contrast between these 
two contemporaneous teachers. He whom they admired 
came neither eating nor drinking;" his piety was aus- 
tere, ascetical, resembling that of the ancient prophets. 
He was the voice of one crying in the wilderness, Pre- 
pare ye the way of the Lord." Commissioned to arouse 
and rebuke a people sunk in sensuality and superstition, 
his entire work was in the spirit and power of Elijah.— 
In the wilderness, and beside the flowing waters of the 
Jordan, his cry still was, "Flee from the wrath to come " 
His ministry was that of the storm and earthquake and 
lire which should awaken men's souls, and hold them in 
mute awe in solemn attention, for the "still small voice." 
And his habits corresponded with his work. Absorbed 
with the grand object before him, he was coarse in his 
apparel, abstemious in his food; he despised all the 
amenities of life, and shared in his character, the con- 
genial sternness of the mountain and desert. 

"The Son of Man came eating and drinking." Jesus 
mingled in society. His first miracle was performed to 
contribute to the innocent festivities of a marriage; and 
in all his life he sympathized with the joys as well as the 
sorrows of humanity. At an early stage of his ministry 
the disciples ot John had captiously noticed this differ- 
ence. <■ Ihen came to him the disciples of John, saying 
Why oWand the Phaiisees fast oft, but thy discip^s 

Moreover some of John's disciples had forsaken him 
and followed Jesus; and the adherents of a party are al- 
ways very reluctant to acknowledge the merits of a leader 



172 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

who is drawing recruits from their ranks. These deser- 
tions, too, had been caused by John's glowing eulogiums 
upon Jesus. But, while their Master thus generously 
exalted him whom they regarded with envy as a success- 
ful rival, that rival had not as yet uttered a single word 
in commendation of John. This jealousy of the new 
teacher betrayed itself in that somewhat querulous obser- 
vation: "And they came to John and said unto him, 
Rabbi, he that was with thee beyond Jordan, to whom 
thou barest witness, behold the same baptizeth, and all 
men come to him." 

Above all, John was now imprisoned. This noble in- 
trepid herald had been for some time languishing in a 
dungeon. Could he be the Messiah, who, possessing the 
power to work miracles and to rescue their leader, was 
thus indifferent to the fate of so devoted and loyal a 
champion? 

Nothing could be more natural than that John's dis- 
ciples should be prejudiced, sceptical, slow to confer 
upon Jesus that magnificent title, compared with which 
the pomp of princes, the diadem of earthly monarchs 
faded into contempt. 

But there is one reason why I cannot adopt the opin- 
ion of those who attribute John's message to the doubts 
of his followers; — a reason which, with me, is always 
conclusive in reading the Sacred Books. The plain lan- 
guage of the narrative forbids this interpretation. The 
enquiry clearly proceeds from John himself, for himself. 
" John Baptist has sent us unto thee, saying, Art thou 
he that should come, or look we for another ? " And 
the Saviour's answer is sent back directly to John." 
"Go your way, and tell John." Besides, John's disci- 
ples knew that Jesus had wrought miracles; if they still 
doubted, and in spite of John's assurances, why should 
other miracles convince them? In a word, either Jesus 
supposed — as he manifestly did — that some unbelief had 
entered the mind of the Baptist, (and if he thought this 
possible, why should not we? — or in the entire transac- 
tion — in his language as well as in that of John — there 
is a want of frankness, there is an air of collusion and 



John's Message to Jesus. 173 

contrivance wholly unnecessary, and which cannot be 
even intimated without some irreverence. * 

To those who are willing lo receive the Scriptures 
no testimony can be more explicit than this. Indeed the 
last words in the answer returned — "Blessed is he who- 
soever shall not be offended in me," clearly convey a 
reproof to the Baptist. And if any further evidence be 
needed to prove that the floubt is to be ascribed to John 
himself, we will find it in the language which Jesus 
uttered as soon as the messengers had departed. For, 
although he pronounced the noblest panegyric upon the 
imprisoned martyr, he yet pointedly notices a disadvan- 
tage under which he labored, as an apology for his 
being deficient in that strong faith and full assurance 
which would be the privilege of all, even the least, in 
the maturity of the Gospel dispensation. "Verily I say 
unto you, among them that are born of women, there hath 
not arisen a greater than John the Baptist; notwith- 
standing, he that is least in the kingdom of heaven is 
greater than he." 

Rejecting, therefore, as unnatural, and wholly un- 
warrantable, the common interpretation of our text; 
regarding it as far-fetched, as doing violence to the inspired 
record, as imputing to John and to Jesus an indiscretion 
wholly unworthy and uncalled for; seeing in it simply 
a shift to get rid of a seeming difficulty; — the only other 
explanation of the passage deserving our attention, is 
that which traces the message to some doubts and mis- 
givings in the mind of John himself. But, now, can this 
hypothesis be justified ? 

Of course, there is an objection to this view T which at 
first appears almost insuperable, otherwise, the mass of 
commentators would not have discarded it; and this 
objection is found in the fact, that, of all then living in 
Judea, John was precisely the person who most cer- 
tainly knew the character and mission of the Redeemer. 



* Olshausen well says, that this interpretation " has absolutely 
no weight ; for the disciples of the Baptist would have been com- 
pletely satisfied by the decided declaration of their master, as we 
see in the case of the Apostles. Jobn i: 37." 



174 Richard Fuller 's Sermons, 

Eecollect his address when Jesus came to him for bap- 
tism; "John forbade him, saying, I have need to be 
baptized of thee, and comest thou to me ? " After the 
baptism, he saw " the Spirit descending and remaining 
upon him ;" and he had been divinely admonished, that 
this sign would designate the illustrious personage who 
should " baptize with the Holy Ghost." In short, his 
clear and repeated attestations, " Behold the Lamb of 
God! " "Behold the Lamb of God which taketh away 
the sin of the world ! " As you recall these facts, you are 
ready to dismiss forever a solution which supposes that 
any incredulity could have arisen in the mind of one so 
thoroughly enlightened. But do not decide thus hastily. 
Pause before you thus renounce, the plain import of the 
sacred narrative. I have stated the common arguments 
in the strongest terms. A little reflection will I think 
convince you, however, that they are not at all conclu- 
sive, and that the interpretation now before us com- 
mends itself to our judgment and is moreover full of 
instruction. 

For, is it quite certain that, before his imprisonment, 
John had ever been fully and personally acquainted with 
Christ as the true Messiah? His profoundly reverent and 
self-abasing address when Jesus approached for baptism 
we have already quoted; and had John not confessed his 
ignorance, we would have been positive that this implied 
a full recognition of the Being who stood before him. 
He, himself, however, informs us that he then knew him 
not; "And I knew him not, but that he should be 
made manifest in Israel, therefore am I come baptizing 
with water." Whether John, living in the desert, had 
ever seen Jesus before, we are not informed ; but he was 
at once deeply impressed by his majestic presence. No 
sooner did that form enter the wave, and those calm 
heavenly eyes meet his, than a solemn awe fell upon 
his soul, and he shrank from administering to him a 
rite intended for sinners ; yet he did not discover in 
him the glorious Messiah. 

But after the baptism did not John receive a revelation 
which disclosed the character of this holy and mysteri- 
ous visitant ? This I concede. " And I knew him not, 



J oli lis Message to Jesus. 1T5 



but he that sent me to baptize with water, the same said 
unto me, upon whom thou shalt see the Spirit descend- 
ing and remaining upon him, the same is lie which shall 
baptize with the Holy Ghost/' Nor, thus divinely illu- 
minated, and hearing the voice from heaven, which I 
suppose was audible to all, could John for a moment 
doubt the surpassing dignity of him who ascended from 
the waters. And knowing that the Messiah had come, 
he testified that this was he. "1 saw and bare record 
that this is the Son of God." 

"No man," however, "can say that Jesus is the Lord, 
but by the Holy Ghost." That Holy Spirit whose office 
it is to "glorify" Jesus was not yet fully come. In 
close connection with the passage in hand is the context, 
which reminds us of the inferior light possessed by John. 
And even after such a sensible, miraculous phenomenon, 
it is still possible that his spiritual conceptions were 
less clear and permanent than we would infer from the 
fticts. I am not unmindful of those announcements in 
which he pointed to "the Lamb of God" but he was 
then plainly under inspiration. The prophetical office 
long suspended had been revived in him; and we know 
that prophets were often the vehicles of revelations 
which they did not fully comprehend. " They searched 
what, or what manner of time, the Spirit of Christ which 
was in them did signify, when it testified beforehand 
the sufferings of Christ and the glory that should follow." 

But, admit the common opinion, that Jesus was at 
first known to John with certainty as the Messiah; this 
knowledge was, of course, inward, spiritual, a matter of 
faith ; and in the holiest this light may suffer a sad 
eclipse. Twice only did Jesus express his admiration at 
the greatness of faith ; and it is remarkable that in each 
case — the woman of Canaan, and the Roman centurion 
— it was the faith of a Gentile. Among his own disci- 
ples we find many mournful instances of a faith, once 
most triumphant, utterly overborne in dark and trying 
hours. The Apostles knew Jesus as John could not 
know him, yet Thomas and Peter yielded to unbelief; 
and this after the enthusiastic loyalty in the former 
who exclaimed, "Let us go that we may die with him;" 



176 Eichard Fuller s Sermons. 

and after that direct revelation to the latter, for which 
the Saviour pronounced him "blessed." Indeed they 
all forsook him and surrendered their hope, giving way 
to despondency, and repeating those words of bitter dis- 
appointment, " We trusted that it had been he." You, 
yourselves, my dear hearers, are you never stnggered and 
tempted to unbelief? And if, with all the superior 
light and advantages enjoyed by us, the Tempter can 
shake our souls, is it strange that John's. spiritual vision 
should be darkened, and gloomy doubts cast a transient 
cloud over his spirit? 

As the Eedeemer walked before him rapt in profound 
contemplation of his sublime and awful enterprise, the 
spirit of prophecy breathed his inspirations into the soul 
of the appointed harbinger; and he "spake as moved by 
the Holy Ghost;" — pointing the multitudes, and his own 
disciples, to the Lamb of God. But, as a man, John's 
spiritual apprehension of the Saviour resembled that of 
all in whom it now pleases God "to reveal his Son ;" and 
his faith was liable to the same obscuration. 

Even though there had been, at this time, nothing to 
expose the Baptist in a peculiar manner to the suggestions 
of unbelief, our own experience would readily account 
for any alternations of darkness and light in his inward 
life. These sad moments when the firmest convictions are 
shaken constitute a part of that discipline through which 
the soul is cast in utter helplessness upon Jesus and 
faith itself is corroborated. Dr. Payson tells us, he some- 
times went into the pulpit doubting the existence of God, 
yet crying to God to deliver him from this blasphemy. 
Amidst his gloomy fears John's faith is still triumphant, 
for he applies at once and only to Jesus. He turns to 
him in the very spirit which exclaims, "Lord, I believe, 
help thou mine unbelief. ' But that he was perplexed 
and distressed, there can be no question ; nor is it at all 
difficult to see why doubts would naturally arise in his 
mind." Honor me with your attention while I give my 
reasons for this assertion. 

And, first, let me remind you, that John had now been 
some time in his gloomy dungeon at Machaerus. The 
Evangelist notices this fact; "Sow when John had heard 



John's Message to Jesus. 177 

in prison the works of Jesus;" and does not this go far 
to account for the darkness which came over his soul? 
In natures seemingly the most rugged, there is often a 
fund of the keenest sensibility. Our prophet was ev- 
idently a man of this sort; and now, deserted by some of 
his most devoted friends, imprisoned for his faithfulness, 
his career prematurely cut off, — can we be surprised, if 
the melancholy thought crept into his heart, that perhaps 
his faith had been an illusion ? We are prone to regard 
the characters mentioned in the Bible too much as his- 
torical abstractions, and we thus lose much of the benefit 
Ave ought to derive from them. Contemplate John as a 
man of like passions with yourselves, and you already 
begin to comprehend his feelings. 

Pent up there within cold, clammy walls, this wild 
lion of a man is, for a while, broken in the elasticity of 
his confidence ; and why should not this be ? In matters 
of religious experience we must never overlook this cu- 
riously wrought material frame, this net-work of nerves 
and fibres in which the soul resides. When, after his 
long journey, Elijah sits down under a juniper tree and 
wishes to die, God's first act in reviving the spirit of his 
disconsolate servant, is to supply him with food to nour- 
ish his body. Much of what we call spiritual depression 
may be traced to physical causes. Every pastor has 
known painful cases, in which those whose piety was 
above suspicion were ready to give up their hope, to 
plunge into despair. Xor, for this sad malady is there 
any remedy in sermons and meditations. It craves fresh 
air, exercise, wholesome diet, and change of scene. And 
is it strange, if, after pining in that dreary jail, the as- 
surance of even such a man as John should for a moment 
break down ? 0, it was a free, earnest, stirring life he 
had lived and loved. Xo sybarite was he; no carpet 
apostle clothed in silk and lawn ; no velvet preacher 
lisping droning soft things to sleepy audiences reposing 
upon cushions of satin and down. His voice shook 
men's consciences, roused the most heedless, alarmed the 
boldest, humbled the proudest; and as a man — a true, 
earnest man — wiil ever be heard by men, multitudes 



178 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 



crowded eagerly to hear him, hanging in breathless rev- 
erence upon his lips. 

All this has now ceased. His eagle spirit is no longer 
invigorated by the bracing mountain breezes; his pulses 
no more bound, his heart no more burns within him, as 
they used to do when he traversed the solemn depths of 
the forest, and clomb the blue hills of Judea; his soul 
no longer glows at the spectacle of listening throngs 
melted into penitence by his sacred eloquence. Arrested, 
immured, curbed in his warmest aspirations, his work 
seemingly a failure; shut out just as he had reached the 
maturity of years and usefulness, from the common air 
and from human sympathy, shut up in a damp chilling 
cell, the strong hour conquers him, he yields to moment- 
ary despondency, sorrow begins to dislimn the visions of 
his faith, and to quell all the passionate energy which lay 
in him. If he be truly the Messiah why is this permitted ? 
Would the glorious deliverer of Israel be satisfied with 
cautious and gentle measures, and leave his herald thus 
to languish in the power of a tyrant ? 

Brethren, he knows nothing of man psychologically, 
who does not perceive that, in some unhappy moment of 
deep dejection, John's faith might commence to fail. Sad 
it is, but not the less certain, that simple loving confiding 
hearts, after experiencing the perfidy so common in the 
world, begin at length to find their lives embittered by 
almost universal distrust. Cold hearts, in Avhich consis- 
tency and constancy are no virtues, do not comprehend 
this; but warm trusting souls know what I say to be 
true; and when such enthusiastic natures are baffled, 
and see their hopes all cruelly frustrated, they are 
strongly tempted to lose faith in every thing and every 
body. 

But the depressing influence of the dungeon was not 
the only cause which would naturally weaken the confi- 
dence of the man of God. His imprisonment removed 
him from his work; and without true, clear, decided 
activity for Christ, no one can be always strong in faith. 
Work, Christian, work, for the time to work is short; 
" Whatever thy hand findeth to do, do with thy might, 
for there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wis- 



John's Message to Jesus, 179 

dom in the grave whither thou goest." Work, Chris- 
tian, work, for though life be spared, you know not how 
soon yon may be disabled for work. Diseases are thick 
around yon; perhaps some insidious malady has already 
invaded your system, or at any moment one of a thousand 
accidents may cripple your strength. Work, Christian, 
work, for all around you is work to be done for Jesus 
and a perishing world, "Lift up your eyes and look on 
the fields ; for they are white already to harvest." Work, 
Christian, work; now it is "well doing," soon it will be 
"well done;" yonder He stands holding your crown in 
his hands, and all your toils and sacrifices are weaving 
fresh stars into that crown; nor, (and I speak without 
extravagance, I utter only what the Scriptures justify) 
nor would [ barter the lightest coronet which shall en- 
circle the brow of the humblest sinner ransomed by blood, 
who has devoted his life to Jesus, for the massiest diadem 
which coruscates upon the brow of an archangel. 
Work, Christian, work; all things are passing away; 
time is passing, youth is passing, health is passing, op- 
portunity is passing ; work, true work for God alone re- 
mains forever. 

These and other reasons urge us to be "steadfast, im- 
movable, always abounding in the work of the Lord ; " but 
if all these motives were wanting, this truth ought to 
make us unwearied in our diligence — that without work 
faith will become a cold, dull, lifeless, ineffectual thing. 
There is no casuist like an earnest spirit clearly and tri- 
umphantly at work. Shew me a man thoroughly en- 
gaged in the service of Jesus, and I will show you a man 
who has no time, who feels no temptation to doubt. AVe 
are to pray for faith ; but it is folly to rest there, and 
expect it to come to us passively from without. Assur- 
ance, like true happiness, can be reached and nourished 
only by real determined activity in the sphere assigned us 
by God. 

In the ministry of the Baptist we have a noble illustra- 
tion of the power of faith, while a Christian is steadily 
toiling for God. John is first introduced to us as a popu- 
lar, flaming, indefatigable evangelist. In this field of la- 
bor, his whole soul is absorbed by his work; and with 



ISO Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

what zeal, with what rugged energy, with what elevation 
above all the weaknesses and passions of humanity, with 
what self-immolating devotion, did he execute his mis- 
sion. As his fume increased, his sphere of usefulness was 
enlarged. At length he became a court preacher; roy- 
alty began to patronize him, and he was thus exposed to 
snares far more perilous than any which could have as- 
sailed the wild child of nature, the rude prophet of the 
wilderness. "Herod feared John, knowing that he was 
a just and a holy man and observed him ; and when he 
heard him, he did many things, and heard him gladly." 
Amidst hatred and persecution a true soul is armed with 
courage and strength. It is when the world smiles, es- 
pecially when the blandishments of princes beguile the 
heart; above all, when he is caressed — not for worldly 
compliance, but because he is "a just and holy man," 
and the most insidious of all self-complacencies is thus 
flattered — it is then that we tremble for the servant of 
God. John, however, was as superior to the seductions 
of the city and palace as he had been to the hardships of 
the desert. "They that are in kings' houses wear soft 
clothing," said Jesus ; but no effeminacy could reach this 
incorruptible herald, though he was in royal pavilions. 
Amidst voluptuous halls, basking under regal patronage, 
his fidelity to duty swerved not. He scorned the cring- 
ing obsequiousness of the fawning sycophants and para- 
sites around him. and with majestic simplicity and sin- 
cerity he rebuked the monarch for his adultery. 

His occupation is now gone, and in that lonely cell 
what can this grand reformer do ? A true soul cannot 
bear idleness; and here was a true soul, all glowing with 
the sublimest ardors, suddenly, violently torn from the 
work he loved, and Hung there, — his bright eye to grow 
dim, his great heart to moulder and languish in a dun- 
geon. No wonder he becomes dark and morbid, a prey 
to glociny doubts and suspicions. A Christian actively 
engaged for Jesus will never complain of unbelief. His 
doubts, like the nightmare, will be gone, the moment he 
bestirs himself in leal earnest. There is an evidence be- 
yond all argument which is wrought in us by clear, self- 
sacriiicing loyalty to the Redeemer. A soul thus con- 



John's Message to Jesus. 181 

centra ted is informed with light and fire from above; 
onward it moves, " trailing clouds of glory," heaven all 
abont it and within it. " If any man will do, he shall 
know." But if he will not do, he shall not know. Let 
a Christian, like Elijah, abandon his work ; nay, though 
it seems hard, let him, like John, be compelled to leave 
his work, and what follows? His past experience, his 
strength acquired by the long struggle will sustain him, 
you are ready to say. But it may be far otherwise. God 
has linked faith and works together and we cannot sep- 
arate them. In the moral economy under which we 
live, it is only when acted out, that truth can sustain us. 
Truth known but lying dormant in the mind is dead 
truth ; and like a dead substance in the body, will pro- 
duce disease if not mortification. 

Those who observe their own inner life will find no 
difficulty in explaining the transient depression and in- 
credulity which overtook the Baptist, if they reflect upon 
the two causes already indicated —his confinement in a 
clammy dungeon producing an inward imprisonment, 
gloom, darkness; and his want of occupation. I will 
now add one other thought — which of itself might well 
explain the misgivings of John, and which, combined 
with those just mentioned, puts us in possession of the 
whole secret of his doubts and perplexities. 

The most cursory study of Jewish history will shew 
that this people differed from all ancient nations chiefly 
in the fact, that religion was the very life and soul of 
their existence, and that a sense of sin in all its black- 
uess was constantly impressed upon their consciences. 
The consequence was that, at first, they looked for a 
Messiah who was to be a divine deliverer from this dread- 
ful curse. Long, however, before the period with which 
our narration has to do, this high aspiration had almost 
ceased. Bowed, successively, under the Persian, the 
Syrian, the Idumean and Roman yokes, the Jews had 
degenerated from the glorious hope once proclaimed by 
their prophets, and they now yearned only for a magnifi- 
cent political Saviour. 

Among this people Jesus appeared, and asserted his 
claims as the Messiah. At first John hailed him as the 

8 



182 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

promised deliverer of Israel; and, prophetically, as we 
have seen, he announced him as the great atoning sa- 
crifice. But public opinion is a flood which carries along 
the wisest and strongest ; nor is it to he questioned, that, 
though possessing superior illumination, the Baptist 
still shared in the popular faith as to the Messiah's tem- 
poral majesty. The Jews clung to this belief with such 
energy of patriotism, that we find the Apostles, after a 
long intimacy with Jesus, cherishing their earthly ambi- 
tion. Nay, even after his resurrection, they ask, " Lord 
wilt thou at this time restore again the kingdom of Is- 
rael ?" It is certain, that the ardent noble heart of the 
Baptist sympathized with the high and fond hopes of 
his nation; but how entirely had Jesus disappointed all 
these hopes. "Now, when John had heard in prison the 
works of Christ." He is languishing in prison, and sad- 
ness, solitude, disappointment, have well nigh crushed 
his imperial spirit. In his desolate cell he hears of the 
works of Christ. But what works ? Those which had 
been anticipated ? armies collected ? victories achieved ? 
the glory of Israel vindicated? the undisputed pre-emi- 
nence of the chosen race asserted? a throne? a regal 
sceptre? an august supremacy established? Nothing of 
all this. Healing a few sick, feeding a hungry mob, 
gathering a crowd of admiring followers to listen to his 
doctrine. And is this all ? Are these the magnificent 
exploits of the mighty Shiloh ? Was it for this that pa- 
triarchs and prophets and kings longed to see his day? 
and that Jehovah had heralded him with such pomp as 
the splendid emancipator of Israel, the monarch who 
should wield his sceptre from Jerusalem over the whole 
earth ? 

Enter into their thoughts, unite them, and you will 
not be surprised that John became intolerant of suspense ; 
that expectations sensitively jealous for the national glory 
should begin to fail. Nothing can be more natural than 
that a dark, gloomy, and perhaps somewhat impatient 
uncertainty should brood for awhile over the soul of the 
Baptist, that his faith should be staggered, and ominous 
conjectures perplex and distract his mind. 

II. "Now when John had heard in prison the works 



John's Message to Jesus. 



of Christ, he sent two of his disciples, and said unto him, 
Art thou lie that should come, or look we for another?'' 
We have examined the message which certainly proceeded 
from some painful questionings in the mind of John 
himself. From the message let us turn to the answer ; 
let us see how Jesus dealt with this case of a staggered 
and almost expiring faith. 

To the enquiry proposed, a human teacher would 
have simply replied affirmatively. Jesus well knew, how- 
ever, that such was not the answer which the unhappy 
state of John's mind demanded. To the Samaritan 
woman he said, "I that speak unto thee am he;" but 
the incredulity of the Baptist was not thus to be treated. 
Indeed it is never by words but by works, that men's 
doubts as to our characters and claims are to be removed. 
"If I do not the works of my Father, believe me not; 
but if 1 do, though ye believe not me, believe the works; 
that ye may know and believe that the Father is in me, 
and I in him." And there is another remarkable passage 
in which — alluding to John's testimony — Jesus seems to 
intimate some 'possible deficiency even in him as a wit- 
ness ; and refers to his own works as the real credentials 
of his Messiahship: "Ye sent unto John, and he bare 
witness to the truth, but I receive not testimony from 
man; I have a greater witness than that of John; for 
the works which the Father hath given me to finish, the 
same works that I do, bear witness of me, that the Father 
hath sent me." 

Moreover, it was by his deeds that prophecy declared 
the Messiah should be known. Hence the answer which 
Jesus returns; — not words, but mighty deeds. An an- 
swer which John would at once comprehend; which 
would forever dispel his apprehensions; on receiving 
which his consolation, his joy, his triumph were full, for 
he knew that all was well. After this assurance he 
could cheerfully lay his head upon the block, satisfied 
that his work, though brief, was done; and — even while 
the executioner was binding him and the cruel steel was 
cleaving the air, he could exult in the full confidence 
that — in hastening to mingle with kindred spirits around 
the throne — he left One upon earth whose great enter- 



184 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

prise no tyrant could arrest, whose empire should be 
boundless and eternal. 

Glancing at the Saviour's answer, observe, first, that 
he says nothing about his Messiahship, but refers directly 
to credentials which were conclusive. " If I bear witness 
of myself, my witness is not true; there is another that 
beareth witness of me;" — that is, my testimony is liable 
to suspicion; you may say, "Thou bearest witness of 
thyself;" but the authority of my Father in heaven 
cannot be disputed. John may require that authority, 
and he shall have it. " And in the same hour he cured 
many of their infirmities, and plagues, and of evil spirits; 
and unto many that were blind he gave sight. Then 
Jesus answering said unto them, go your way and tell 
John what things ye have seen and heard ; how that the 
blind see, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf 
hear, the dead are raised, to the poor the Gospel is 
preached. And blessed is he, whosoever shall not be 
offended in me." 

Another thing in this remarkable answer. The cre- 
dentials which Jesus exhibited were precisely those which 
prophecy had foretold. The title "He that should 
come," is often applied to the Messiah by the sacred wri- 
ters. "Behold your God will come." "He will come 
and save you." In the question, "Art thou he that 
should come?" John, of course, alluded to these pre- 
dictions. And when we examine these prophecies, we 
find Isaiah declaring that this glorious personage should 
vindicate his title by the very miracles which were now 
wrought. "He will come and save you. Then the eyes 
of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf 
shall be unstopped. Then shall the lame man leap as a 
hart, and the tongue of the dumb sing." 

But the most convincing and instructive part of this 
answer is that which least strikes us at this day. The 
reply is cumulative. First there is the healing of dis- 
eases; then raising the dead; but the last and crowning 
proof of his Messiahship is, the preaching of the Gospel 
to the poor. This had been predicted, as the peculiar 
glory of Shiloh. " The Spirit of the Lord God is upon 
me, because the Lord has anointed me to preach good 



John's Message to Jesus. 185 

tidings unto the meek." Such is the prophecy, and it 
was exactly fulfilled; for the Hebrew term rendered, 
"ineek" is translated, in the Septuagint which Jesus 
often quoted, by a Greek word signifying "the poor" — 
the very word, indeed, which is employed in our text. 
Others had taught great truths, and performed illus- 
trious miracles ; but hitherto the poor had been over- 
looked. Jesus first proclaimed the grandeur of the soul, 
and the common fatherhood of God; — revelations these 
which pour contempt upon all artificial and superficial 
distinctions; — investing the humblest and most despised 
child of earth with transcendent honor; and unfolding 
to the poorest, spiritual and imperishable riches. 

" The poor have the Gospel preached unto them;" — 
this was a sign which John could not misunderstand, 
but, the full glory of which none of us begin to compre- 
hend. To recognize the sacred rights of humanity, to 
" honor all men," as men and because they are men, this 
is an elevation of which earthly wisdom and benevolence 
had hitherto formed no sort of conception. Jesus was the 
first philanthropist. He first breathed into man a love 
forman, as man, a love forthepoor,alovewhich penetrates 
through the rags of penury, and honors the soul as of 
more value than the whole material creation. This love 
was unknown before upon this fallen earth; Jesus 
brought it with him from heaven. Now and then, some 
man, — perhaps some simple unlettered man — touched by 
this love — hath spoken, and all hearts have at once con- 
fessed the strange mysterious influence of his words. But 
none of us can conceive the power which this principle 
is yet to exert, the revolutions which it will some clay 
achieve, when it shall have bestowed upon our churches 
the real gift of tongues — the true miraculous endowment 
which descended in flames upon the apostles; not the 
faculty of speaking in foreign unknown accents, but the 
more glorious power of reaching the heart of humanity, 
everywhere, with a language vernacular to the whole 
brotherhood of man. Miracles attested the divine mis- 
sion of the Redeemer; but miracles are poor compared 
with that celestial love which, through clouds of human 
guilt and wretchedness, sees the dignity of the soul, and, 
by toil and sacrifice, seeks to regenerate and save it. 



.1 8G Richard Fuller 's Sermons. 

In conclusion let this subject teach us, that temptations 
to doubt and unbelief are no evidence of a want of gen- 
uine piety. John " was a burning and a shining light" — 
one of the most illustrious heroes and martyrs who 
ever adorned the sacred annals; yet in a gloomy moment 
his faith was at fault; and he began to fear that his 
dearest hopes, his once buoyant and triumphant confi- 
dence, might all be a deception. The heartless, the 
masses engrossed with earthly cares — know nothing of 
these strange caprices of feeling which come over those 
who love and live earnest, enthusiastic lives. Nervous, 
passionate natures are, in dark moments, pressed by mys- 
terious apprehensions under which the soul gives way 
drifts from its firm moorings, and tends to universal 
scepticism. The truest earthly friendship, the sincerest 
earthly love, even the faith which is dearer than life, and 
which, — like John in this sad hour — still turns to Christ 

for succor, — all, all the thought enters the mind, 

whether all may not be the delusion of a fond, confiding 
temperament which has believed because it wished to 
believe. 

See, too, where a true soul will go in seasons of darkness 
and despondency. See how much faith there is in the 
doubts of an earnest heart. John sends at once and di- 
rectly to Jesus; — a lesson his disciples learned from him; 
for when he was beheaded, they "took up the body and 
buried it, and went and told Jesus." Sensitive natures 
find themselves depressed and disheartened ; they do not 
know what to do with their burden ; they turn to them- 
selves, to their past experience, or their preseut faithful- 
ness; but they can derive no real consolation from these 
sources. Not only at first, but as often as he was strick- 
en, the Israelite had to look directly to the Brazen Ser- 
pent; and the oppressed spirit must repair at all times 
and at once to the Redeemer. "Look unto me, and be ye 
saved." " Come unto me, all ye that are weary and heavy 
laden, and I will give you rest." Christians, lose what 
you may of comfort and peace, hold fast your confidence 
in Jesus. With that you can look anything in the face; 
with that, desperation itself will cease to be desperate. 

A third lesson. True greatness does not depend on 



John's Message to Jesus. 1ST 

what the world culls success. In difficult enterprises 
pioneers generally seem to fail, but they really secure the 
triumphs of those who succeed them. John's course was 
us brief as it was bright. He died when he was only 
thirty years of age, and his end was tragical ; but he did 
not die, until he had "fulfilled his course." His was a 
life not of words, but of deeds. lie was sent to prepare 
a guilty world for the reception of the Messiah. Arduous 
as was his office, he concentrated his whole being upon 
its discharge; and died rather than be recreant to duty. 
This was success, this was his glory; and rest assured 
there is for you and me no other success, no honor, no 
happiness bat in occupying faithfully the sphere assigned 
us, in devoting our lives to the duties of that station in 
which the divine wisdom and love have placed us. Our 
great business, our true life is, not to be prying into what 
lies dimly in the distance, but to do what lies clearly be- 
fore us. Conforming ourselves to the will of God, let us 
never be discouraged or diverted because we cannot com- 
prehend the conduct of him whom we serve. In the 
verse just succeeding our text Jesus warns us, that there 
may be much in what he does to perplex and try our 
faith ; but he says, "Blessed is he whosoever shall not be 
offended in me." To trust is better, nobler, happier than 
to reason. To love and worship Jesus, to confide all in- 
to his hands, — this is the religion of the Gospel, — this is 
duty and strength and victory. 

Above all, let us learn the surpassing dignity of the 
Christian ministry. Jesus declared that the preaching 
of the Gospel to the poor and the perishing was the 
crowning proof of his divine mission, the great crowning 
glory of his kingdom. Let us rejoice in this Gospel. — 
Happy are our eyes which see the heavenly light, and our 
ears which hear the joyful sound. Miracles blessed only 
the body; the Gospel blesses the soul. Miracles have 
ceased; but the Gospel is still pouring light and purity 
and truth and joy over the earth. Miracles are the pow- 
er of God to heal the sick, to give sight to the blind, to 
raise the dead ; the Gospel is " the power of God unto sal- 
vation" — infusing spiritual health, opening the eyes to 
rejoice in celestial truth, raising the immortal spirit from 



188 Richard Fuller's Sermons, 

the death of sin and corruption to everlasting life — to an 
exceeding and eternal weight of glory. 

Christians, my dearly beloved brethren, what a price- 
less treasure is this Gospel to us. What a precious Re- 
deemer does it disclose. "Art thou he that should come, 
or look we for another?" 0, it is he. It is he whom our 
souls love and adore. We look for no other. We desire 
no other, no other Friend, High Priest, Advocate, Re- 
deemer. To whom can we go but unto him? to whom, 
for pardon, for sanctification, for comfort, for strength in 
temptation, for grace in trial, for light in darkness, for 
peace in tribulation, for heavenly support when flesh and 
heart shall be failing, for victory over death, for tri- 
umphant assurance at the judgment? "Lord to whom 
shall we go? thou hast the words of eternal life; and we 
believe, and are sure, that thou art the Christ, the Son of 
the living God." 

Whatever you may say, some of you, my friends, are 
plainly looking for another. You deny this; but your 
conduct, your secret hopes from your virtues, your pleas 
of unworthiness — all prove it. You are not willing to 
receive Jesus as the Christ, and to cast yourselves entire- 
ly upon his great atonement. If you persist in this un- 
belief, you must perish. For me, for you, there is no 
other hope, " Neither is there salvation in any other, for 
there is none other name under heaven given among men, 
whereby ye must be saved." 

Blessed, forever blessed is he, who shall not be offend- 
ed in Jesus. What peace and joy does he not find in 
obedience. What a crown of glory is reserved for him 
in heaven. But you who neglect the Saviour, remember 
you, too, are fulfilling a course, and what must be the 
end of that course if you persevere in it ? Recollect that, 
to perish, you need not openly reject the Gospel ; you 
have only to continue to "neglect" it. Jesus is an al- 
mighty Saviour, " able to save to the uttermost all that 
come unto God by him; but if you refuse to come, his 
almightiness will avail you nothing. 

Jesus is a willing Saviour. "Rim that cometh unto 
me," he says, "I will in no wise cast out;" but remember 
you may die to-night, and if you pass as you now are 



John's Message to Jesus. 189 



into eternity, the great gulf will be fixed, so that you can 
never come to him. Jesus is a patient Saviour. "How 
often" — (such has long been his weeping complaint as, 
by mercy, by affliction, by his word, by the secret move- 
ments of his Spirit, he has sought to draw you to him- 
self) — "how often would I have gathered thee under my 
wings, but thou wouldst not." Remember that this pa- 
tience, though it last long, will not last forever. At any 
hour the sentence may go forth, "Ephraim is joined to 
his idols, let him alone." This night Jesus may say, " I 
go away, and ye shall seek me and shall die in your sins." 
%i Die in your sins" — the second death, the soul's death, 
what a doom. An immortality of pain and tears ; an in- 
finity of wretchedness and despair; the blackness of 
darkness across whic'i conscience will forever shoot her 
clear and ghastly flashes, like lightning streaming over a 
desert when midnight and tempest are there; weeping 
and wailing and gnashing of teeth ; long, long eternity, 
and things that will make eternity seem longer, — making 
each moment seem an eternity, — oh, miserable condition 
of the damned ! What a doom this for you. What a 
doom for one who was warned, urged, entreated to be 
saved. My dear friend, or ever it be too late, open your 
eyes to your danger and your duty. " Then I saw," says 
Bunyan, " that there was a way to hell even from the 
very gate of heaven ; and I awoke, and lo, it was a dream." 
Beware lest you precipitate yourself into such a doom, 
and awake and find it no dream, but a terrible reality; 
a reality rendered the more intolerable by the memory 
of all the love and mercy which sought to save you, but 
which you resolutely, wilfully, wantonly resisted. 



8* 



190 Richard Fuller s Sermons. 



Sermon SSletoeutti- 



JOY IN THE LORD. 

"Although the fig tree shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be in 
the vines ; the labor of the olive shall fail, and the fields shall yield no 
meat ; the flock shall be cut off from the fold, and there shall be no 
herd in the stalls ; yet will I rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of 
my salvation."— Habakkuk hi: 17, 18. 

I SUB MIT to yourselves whether you ought to be sat- 
isfied with a religion which affords you no enjoyment. 
I appeal to the law of Christ's kingdom, "Kejoice in the 
Lord alway, and again I say, Kejoice;" — no command can 
be more explicit. I lay before you the experience of 
God's people in all ages; — "the joy of salvation/' "the 
joy unspeakable and full of glory," which delighted 
their souls, causing them to "rejoice in tribulation," that 
is, to find a source of happiness in tribulation itself. I 
open to you the legacy of the Redeemer: — "These things 
have I spoken unto you, that my joy might remain in you, 
and that your joy might be full." In a word, I ask you 
to consider, that in its very nature, piety, if it be one part 
duty, is two parts happiness; "The kingdom of God is 
righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost." — 
Unite these reflections. Can you rest in a religion which 
gives you no joy? — nay, which, so far from being your 
consolation in trouble, is itself the source of your great- 
est trouble; from which you hasten to escape and find 
pleasure in the world, until your fears or the voice of 
conscience drives you back again? 

The word happiness does not apply to brutes; but hu- 
manity — though stunned by the Fall — still retains some 
dim consciousness of the bliss it has forfeited, and, there- 
fore, pines constantly for a felicity not to be found in 



Joy in the Lord. 191 



this world. Religion alone satisfies these universal and 
infinite cravings. Your pastors are to "be helpers of 
yonr joy." And if, instead of wasting life in pursuits ont 
of yourselves, you would second our wishes, and — enter- 
ing into yonr own hearts — would let Jesus correct the 
disorders there, and establish his throne over all your 
passions, you would know by experience that, even here, 
in its pathway to immortality, the Gospel scatters bless- 
ings which can banish all our fears, can fill us with joy 
and peace in believing, can elevate us into a noble super- 
iority to sensible gratifications, can cause us to be ab- 
sorbed in God our '-'exceeding joy," and to feel that the 
loss of the whole world would only make room for him 
and for the pure heavenly delight which is found in him. 

I. h\ unfolding our text, let us first speak of the joy 
here mentioned. This chapter is styled a lyrical prayer 
or meditation. It is full of epic fire and sublimity. Sad- 
ness, fear, confidence alternately shake and calm the 
prophet's soul; but all his emotions at last subside, or, 
rather, rise and expand into the noblest and divinest joy. 

Isow, as to this joy you feel at once that, in its origin 
and nature, it is high above the world. For it is perfect 
satisfaction in God; — not in his gifts, not even in the 
spiritual gifts and blessings he bestows ; — but in himself. 
And it abides when all earthly prospects are withered; it 
• consoles and cheers when every source of mortal happi- 
ness has shrunk and perished. It is when his heart is 
overwhelmed within him, that the child of God is led to 
a Eock higher than he is — higher than his fears and sins 
and sorrows — higher than all the billows and storms 
and darkness around him. 

There are natural enjoyments common to all — to the 
enemies as well as the friends of God. There are sensual 
gratifications, "the pleasures of sin for a season." And 
there are in religion excitements and fervors of the pas- 
sions — airy castles of happiness which, like the rainbow, 
depend on the state of the atmosphere. But heaven is 
not more superior to earth than is the joy in our text to 
all these transient feverish delights, which impart no 
abiding, sustaining happiness, which indeed leave the 



192 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

heart more weak, exhausted, weary and void than it was 
before. The joy of the Lord is calm, intelligent, pure, 
spiritual, invigorating, celestial happiness. It is not na- 
tural, but the fruit of the Spirit. It is the bliss of angels 
— the deep speechless rapture of cherub and seraph upon 
whom God directly pours a flood of love and blessedness ; 
but to us it is vouchsafed only through the atonement of 
Jesus. It is the perfect satisfaction of all our immortal 
appetites at the " bright fountain of goodness." It is the 
repose of the soul which rises above the scope and verge 
of sublunary things and loses itself in that Being who is 
the essential happiness, whose perfections are the ex- 
haustless treasure-house of glory and ecstacy to all holy 
intelligences, and who is to us, far more than to angel 
and archangel, the object of boundless gratitude, love, wor- 
ship, since we rejoice in him as "the God of our salva- 
tion." 

I have just said that this joy can be ours only through 
the atonement. It is "rejoicing in the Lord;" and we 
know that it is in Jesus the Christian rejoices " with joy 
unspeakable and full of glory." The distinguishing 
characteristics of the renewed soul are that it " worships 
God in the Spirit, rejoices in Jesus Christ, and has no 
confidence in the flesh." Indeed the text expressly de- 
clares that the emotion which thus exalts above all sorrow 
and calamity is "joy in the God of our salvation." The 
first donation and every accession of this heavenly treas- 
ure come to us by personal union with our Redeemer. — 
Tne soul of our prophet is absorbed in the contemplation 
not of abstract attributes, but of a Person. And this is a 
striking and important trait in the religion of Jesus, that 
he himself is "all and in all." Faith, love, hope, joy, all 
the graces and duties of the Christian's life, all the tri- 
umphs of the Christian's death, all the glories of the 
Christian's heaven have reference to him. 

If, then, I were required to give a general definition of 
the joy in our text, I would say, that it is the gratitude, 
peace, confidence, solid reality of happiness experienced 
by a soul which reposes wholly in Jesus. For the more 
simple and entire our trust in him, the more will we re- 
joice in God — in his will, character, blessedness, glory. 



Joy in the Lord. 1 93 



Many of God's dearest children walk in sadnesa all their 
lives, lamenting, not for any known sin, but that they 
taste so 1 i t tie joy. And this is because they look not 
directly and steadily to Jesus, but take counsel in their 
own souls, looking to their own experiences for assurance, 
and thus "have sorrow in their hearts daily." "Oh," 
exclaims Cougar, "had I learned this secret earlier of 
looking always to Jesus how much more I should have 
enjoyed these fourscore years; how much happier I might 
have been as a Christian all my days. I have found it 
to be only union with Christ by faith, and a constant 
recollection of him as a present Saviour, that can keep the 
soul happy by keeping it from sin." 

True spiritual joy is, then, the fruit of faith in Jesus; 
a faith which is always accompanied by a tender remem- 
brance of sin, by inward renovation, and by a filial sur- 
render of the will to God. But this is too vague. Many 
of you, all of you, I hope, would wish me to be more 
particular — to go into an analysis of this sublime senti- 
ment — to search for the ingredients of this noble pleasure. 
Nor need we go far to find them. They are the know- 
ledge of God, love for God, and harmony with God; three 
elements of spiritual happiness which, in their perfection, 
will be heaven, which, even now, are heaven; and to 
surrender which for any earthly enjoyment is an infatua- 
tion far surpassing that of the idiot who should ex- 
change a legacy of millions for poverty and rags. 

The knowledge of God — of God revealed, seen, felt in 
Jesus — this is the first source of satisfying joy. My 
.riends, let us understan dourselves. Our highest, noblest 
connection is not with the earth. Let us bless God for 
faculties by which we can explore the wonders and enjoy 
the beauties of creation; for powers which can subdue 
the earth, the sea, the elements, can subsidize all the 
materials of nature, and compel all her forces into alli- 
ance with our progress and welfare. But could we 
achieve "all knowledge" of all visible worlds, it would 
only mock the profoundest want of minds which are from 
God and can be satisfied only with the knowledge of God. 
Great is the human intellect: greater than stars, moon, 
sun ; for these radiant spheres, while they shine and burn 



194 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

along their glorious circles, and hymn God's praises in 
sweetest melody, — are all unconscious of their beauty, 
and hear not their own music ; but the mind can expa- 
tiate among these naming orbs, can exult in their bright- 
ness, and take in all their ravishing harmonies. Greater, 
however, far greater is that intellect, because it can 
ascend to the Creator himself, and know him, can study 
and adore his character and perfections. 

Nor does this knowledge secure repose and delight 
merely for the mind. It satisfies the heart. It elevates 
our affections above the earthly and mutable, and fixes 
them upon the heavenly and eternal. "Acquaint now 
thyself with Him, and be at peace." It is only this light 
which can shed life and peace into the soul. It is only 
as God is the object of our contemplation that our affec- 
tions rise to their proper centre and portion. "Lord 
shew us the Father and it sufficeth us." It is as we 
know God that the soul rejoices in a portion spiritual, 
infinite, eternal as itself. If we seek the cause of all the 
restlessness and misery upon the earth, the Saviour re- 
veals it in that weeping lamentation, "0 righteous Father, 
the world hath not known thee." If we ask what judg- 
ment from God would cause man's inner life to pine and 
die, the answer is, "Not a famine of bread nor a thirst 
for water, but of hearing the word of the Lord." And 
if we enquire when this fallen earth shall be regenerated; 
when sin and suffering shall cease; when righteousness 
shall cover the hills and flow along the valleys ; when 
purity and joy shall pour the golden atmosphere of 
heaven all over this globe, and waken the music of heaven 
in all its peopling multitudes — making every spot a tem- 
ple, and every day a Sabbath, and every breath gratitude 
and praise; the prophet replies by pointing to that 
millennial noontide when "The earth shall be filled with 
the knowledge of the glory of the Lord, as the waters 
cover the sea." 

" Knowledge is power." If this be true of knowledges 
which are earthly, political, material, what shall we say 
of spiritual knowledge ? The knowledge of God is power 
— power over the powerful — power where all else is pow- 
erless. Nothing can so pluck up pride and all its bitter 



Joy in the Lord. 195 



roots. Nothing can so calm every tumult in our bosoms. 
Nor is there a sinful passion, nor a rising murmur, nor 
a movement of discontent or envy or cupidity which is 
not hushed as the discoveries of this glorious Being 
break in softly, sweetly, all-subduingly upon the soul. 

I lament that this knowledge is so imperfect. It must 
ever be imperfect; for so fringed and covered with splen- 
dor is the glory of God, that the gaze of angel and 
archangel is dazzled. But if in the "glass" given us, 
if in " the face of Jesus Christ" we would contemplate 
this glory more constantly, we would be "changed into 
the same image from glory to glory;" our exulting souls 
would exclaim, " This is life eternal, to know thee the 
only true God, and Jesus Christ whom thou hast sent;" 
grace and peace would be multiplied unto us through 
the knowledge of God and of Jesus our Lord; the full 
assurance of faith and hope would be ours. " liejoice 
with trembling" we should; but the trembling would 
resemble that of those stars which quiver because they 
are tixed in the highest heaven. It would not be the 
tremulousness of alarm and agitation, but the thrilling 
pulsations of a joy inarticulate, unspeakable, yet so full 
of glory that, were all vintage and harvest of his earthly 
hopes withered by drought or drowned by floods — the 
Christian could still look up with eyes suffused but bright 
with gratitude and exclaim, "Although the fig tree shall 
not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vines; the labor 
of the olive shall fail, and the fields shall yield no meat ; 
the flock shall be cut off from the fold, and there shall 
be no herd in the stalls; yet will I rejoice in the Lord, I 
will joy in the God of my salvation." 

The knowledge of God. From this knowledge, love 
for God must spring up in the soul; for " he who loveth 
not, knoweth not God." And this love is the second 
element in that sublime joy of which I am speaking. 

Our miseries arise from our errors; and to nothing is 
man more blind than to his own happiness. The case 
in our text is sad. Our hearts sink at the very descrip- 
tion of prospects thus darkened and dreary ; and we 
wonder at the calm triumphant joy of the prophet in 
the midst of this desolation. But are we Christians ? 



106 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

Where is our faith, when this superiority to earth] y joy 
seems to us so incredible? Fig trees, olives, vines, fields, 
flocks, herds, — is the soul then, dependant on these 
things ? And are we yet to be cured of the folly of him 
who supposed that in his barns, where he had stored 
away food for his cattle and horses, he could also garner 
up goods for his soul? 

Such are our ignorance and infatuation. Such is the 
error as to our wants which keeps us always occupied 
about superficial necessities, while we overlook those 
which are deepest and essential. And hence the mistake 
in all our projects of happiness; — each man adding his 
infallible plan to the two hundred and eighty-eight 
schemes proposed by the ancient philosophers ; — and 
each man, after succeeding in his plan, confessing it to 
be a failure; — Solomon, who tried all plans, pronouncing 
"all vanity and vexation of spirit." 

My friends, God is happy, because he is Love. God is 
supremely, absolutely happy, because he is the essential, 
uncreated, absolute Love. Our hearts are formed to love 
this God, to find all their boundless affections delighting 
themselves in this God. And in such a Being the heart 
may well find compensation for the loss of all earthly 
good. Loving him, and assured of his love, it must be 

" Too blest 
To mourn creation's obsequies." 

Whether it rests with us to love, I will not undertake 
to decide. It does however, rest with us what to love ; 
and it is the very essence of love to find happiness in its 
object. To give our hearts to objects unworthy of them, 
to make these objects indispensable to us — this is at once 
the great error, and sin, and misery of the world. On 
the other hand, to love God ; to hear him say, " My son, 
give me thy heart," and to make this Being, this adora- 
ble Saviour, the object of our supreme affection, our 
portion, our wealth, all our ambition — behold the happi- 
ness of heaven; and behold a joy which is not only un- 
troubled but increased by the wreck and decay of every- 
thing on earth. 

Not only is it impossible to exhaust the whole heart 



Joy in the Lord. 107 



on material things, but there is no created thing which 
can be loved so as to be essential to our happiness with- 
out restlessness and pain. It is in loving God that the 
bliss and perfection of the soul begin on earth and are 
consummated in heaven. Pure love for God seeks no other 
reward than that found in loving him. And as in loving 
things gross and sensual, the soul is debased and made 
like those things, so in loving God it becomes like God 
in purity and felicity. The soul can be made perfect 
only in this love. In loving earth w r e become earth ; in 
loving God we become "partakers of the divine nature." 

Love to God. Nor let any one tell* me that this senti- 
ment, this delightful complacency in such a Being is 
something romantic and visionary. Alas for us, if we 
are thus ignorant. Visionary ! Romantic ! Would, then 
that we were all visionary and romantic. But no, and 
again, no; never was attachment more rational; and 
never, too, was there attachment which, by all the tests 
of love, more nobly vindicated its sincerity and power. 
Love seen in the choice of the soul ; which gathers all 
earthly things into one aggregate and, trampling them 
in the dust, ascends to God — exclaiming "Whom have I 
in heaven but thee, and there is none upon earth that I 
desire besides thee." Love which delights itself habit- 
ually, instinctively in the Lord; when alone, surrendering 
itself to the most delicious intercourse with him; and 
amid the tumult of business, still carrying within mem- 
ories of that communion. Oh, how much dearer than 
all which the world can supply. Love which "thirsts 
for God, for the living God;' 7 feeling that with him, 
wildernesses and frightful deserts would blossom as a 
garden, that, without him heaven itself would be only 
a scene of melancholy and fatiguing splendor. A love 
which finds its glory and happiness in God's glory and 
happiness. That whatever becomes of me, he is and 
must forever be happy — that he is and must be forever 
glorified — how precious are these thoughts, what light 
and music do they breathe into the heart. In fine, a love 
which expects happiness only from God; a love which 
can keep the mind tranquil and serene when bereft of all 
earthly comforts; which finds "him sweetest when the 



193 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

world is bitterest;" which tastes more of his preciousness 
when all other precious things are withdrawn ; and which 
shedding freshness and greenness into the soul when all 
outward hopes and joys are smitten and withered like 
grass, — causes it to exclaim with the prophet, "Although 
the fig tree shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the 
vine ; the labor of the olive shall fail, and the fields shall 
yield no meat; the flock shall be cut off from the fold, 
and there shall be no herd in the stalls; yet will I rejoice 
in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my salvation." 

The knowledge and love of God must produce harmo- 
ny with God, and from this harmony flows the joy which 
I am attempting to describe. 

The Christian is said to " have rejoicing in himself 
alone and not in another," because — his will being in 
sympathy with the divine will, and his heart in sympathy 
with the heart of God — his happiness, like that of God, 
is beyond the reach of all changes and alternations. No 
inferior exercises of religion can thus enrich the heart. 
Hopes, tender meltings at the first view of a crucified 
Saviour, are feeble and wavering; but when his soul is 
established and settled in unison with God, and moves in 
harmony with him, the Christian exclaims, " My heart 
is fixed, God, my heart is fixed. I will sing and give 
praise. Awake up my glory, awake psaltery and harp, 
I myself will awake early. I will praise thee, Lord, 
among the people; I will sing unto thee among the 
nations; for thy mercy is great unto the heavens, and 
thy truth unto the clouds. Be thou exalted God, 
above the heavens ; let thy glory be above all the earth." 
His joy then becomes firm, immovable as the eternal 
throne itself. 

"Thy will be done on earth, as it is done in heaven;" 
in this prayer Jesus reveals the secret of all happiness. 
Without this concert with God, heaven could be no hea- 
ven to us; wearisome would be eternity with its "forced 
hallelujahs." But this concord established, heaven is 
already ours. We shall be no longer at the sport and 
mercy of events; we will view all vicissitudes with a 
tranquil eye, because there is harmony between the di- 
vine mind and our minds. We shall no more be over- 



Joy in the Lord. 199 



whelmed by afflictions ; under the most crushing blows 
the same rod which smites will infuse balm into the 
wound; celestial comforts will delight our souls; be- 
cause our chastisements are designed to make us par- 
takers of the di viae holiness, and there is harmony be- 
tween the perfection of God and our desires after perfec- 
tion. Lastly, God, as I have said, is happy in himself. 
The whole creation — the beauty of the earth, the gran- 
deur of the ocean, the visible music and glory of the hea- 
vens, the sun, the moon, the stars, men, angels, archan- 
gels — adds, can add nothing to his infinite beatitude. 
JS"or could the extinction of the whole universe — of the 
earth, the sea, the sky, of sun, moon, stars — of men and 
angels and archangels — deduct anything from it. And 
as there is harmony between him and our souls we shall 
share in this happiness; there will be harmony between 
his felicity and ours. Our joy will be derived from the 
same sources — from his perfections, his works, his provi- 
dence, his government, his sovereignty, above all from 
the amazing scheme of redemption. As God is his own 
happiness; so we — yet not we, but Christ dwelling 
in us— shall be our happiness. Nor in the darkest hour 
will anything be able to damp a blessedness which is 
so high above the earth, so full of heaven. Still, amidst 
all outward dearth and ruin, the Christian will feel that 
"the statutes of the Lord are right, rejoicing the heart ;" 
he will repose with delight in a covenant God. "How 
precious aiso" — (such will be his adoring reflections) — 
"how precious also are thy thoughts unto me, God, 
how great is the sum of them; if I should count them 
they are more in number than the sand. When I awake, 
I am still with thee;" "My soul shall be satisfied as 
with marrow and fatness, and my mouth shall praise 
thee with joyful lips, when I remember thee upon my 
bed, and meditate upon thee in the night watches;" 
"Thy statutes have been my song in the house of my 
pilgrimage;" " Weeping may endure for a night, but joy 
cometh in the morning;" "The Lord will command 
his loving kindness in the day-time, and in the night 
his song shall be with me, and my prayer unto the God 
of my life;" "Although the fig tree shall not blossom, 
neither shall fruit be in the vine; the labor of the olive 



200 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

shall fail, and the fields shall yield no meat ; the flock 
shall be cut off from the fold and there shall be no herd 
in the stalls; yet will I rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in 
the God of my salvation." 

II. I have dwelt longer than I intended upon onr first 
article. I confess that I know too little of this rejoicing; 
yet the theme is delightful to me. Having defined this 
joy, I wish now to say a word or two as to its importance. 
And surely this topic ought to require no other argument 
than that which the text presents. 

The imagery here is, of course, oriental ; and it is a 
picture of unmitigated famine and desolation. The fail- 
ure of blossom and fruit on fi^ftree, vine and olive ; these 
fields all sterile, parched, blackened wastes; these lowing 
herds and bleating folds stricken with sudden pestilence, 
filling the air with their groans, and strewing the earth 
with their ruins; — amidst such soul -rending spectacles 
the heart, left to itself, must sicken, must sink into gloom 
and despondency. But the prophet anticipates these 
ravages without consternation or dread. His life, his 
truest, highest life is in God; it is nourished and built 
up, not by bread, but by faith, by love, by the direct com- 
munications which Jesus imparts to the soul as the vine 
infuses its own life into the branches. As 1 before said, 
it is because our faith deserves not the name, that the joy 
seems strange and wonderful to us. For al 1 which drought 
or plague can destroy is material and perishing, but the 
soul is spiritual and immortal. 

If, as Creator, Gcd clothes the grass of the field and 
satisfies the wants of every living thing, shall he not, as 
a Father, much rather breathe life and strength and joy 
into the soul? He manifests himself gloriously to the 
world; but he manifests himself to those who love him 
as he does not to the world. Intimately present to the 
created spirit, he can instil — he does instil peace, conso- 
lation, ineffable blessedness, a joy which gives "songs in 
the night," which can make life one anthem; can cheer 
and delight the soul amid universal disaster and dismay; 
which will be perfected and perpetuated when the whole 
material world shall have perished. The imagery in our 



Joy in the Lord. 201 



text is oriental, but there is nothing oriental in the great 
truths it teaches. Public calamities and distresses are 
not confined to the East, norto the fields. Cities, nations 
are sometimes swept and scourged by war, pestilence, 
famine, commercial panic and desolation; and it is then 
that the Christian feels — as he did not, could not feel in 
prosperity — what it is to have garnered up his heart and 
his treasure in heaven, what it is to have his life, his joy 
in the God of his salvation. The language before us does 
not apply, however, only to public calamities. These are 
rare, and we are then sustained by the sympathies of those 
around us. We may never know such seasons, but there 
are sorrows we all must know. " If a man live many years 
and rejoice in them all, yet let him remember the days 
of darkness, for they shall »be many." " Man is born un- 
to trouble;" it is the universal indefeasible inheritance. 
Afflictions must come, the furnace must be entered, waves 
and billows must roll over us; and then, it is only this 
joy in the Lord which can sustain and cheer us. Patience, 
resignation, submission — these are the graces generally 
recommended in the house of mourning, and they are 
noble virtues; but there is something nobler provided by 
the Gospel. It is joy — joy in the God of our salvation. 
Nor for my part, have I any language in which to speak 
of the divine efficacy of this sublime principle. 

Can there be a darker hour than that in which David 
wrote the ninety-fourth Psalm? Yet, persecuted, de- 
serted, bowed down by his own sorrows and. the afflictions 
of Zion, we hear him exclaiming, "Jn the multitude of 
my thoughts within me, thy comforts delight my soul." 

I asked if any hour can be darker than that which then 
oppressed the soul of the Psalmist. There did come, 
however, a darker and drearier day to him. It was when 
he lay upon his death bed. In those moments of weak- 
ness, pain, decay, we need sympathy and support, and we 
turn instinctively to our family for love and consolation. 
But what sharp anguish pierced and rent all his soul, as 
the memories of his own blighted hearth and home broke 
in bitterly upon him; as he recalled the ingratitude and 
violent death of Absalom ; as he mused upon the sins and 
miseries of his children which had brought his grey 



202 Richard Fuller s Sermons. 

hairs with sorrow to the grave. Yet even when thus 
bowed clown heavily, he can still lift his fading eyes to 
God as his satisfying portion, and can say, "Although 
my house be not so with God," (not so as I had wished, 
not so as I had prayed, not so as I had hoped,) " yet he 
hath made with me an everlasting covenant, ordered in 
all things and sure; for this is all my salvation and all 
my desire, although he make it not to grow." This last 
' although ' is the most touchingly mournful note in this 
bitter Avail of sorrow. It implies that not only his house 
but his heart was not so with God. Upon examining his 
spiritual condition, he lamented so little growth, so little 
enlargement. His soul did not prosper and nourish, nor 
did sensible religious enjoyments cheer him in that try- 
ing moment. But there was that, out of himself and 
high above all his griefs and defects which was "so with 
God" — so firm, so immovable, that he reposes upon it 
with exulting confidence. The everlasting covenant 
could never fail. Clouds and miseries might darken all 
his years; the mountains might depart and the hills be 
removed, but the kindness of his Redeemer would not de- 
part from him, neither should the covenant of his peace 
be removed. 

There is one other view in which the value of religious 
joy cannot be too highly estimated ; and I am anxious to 
urge it, because it is generally overlooked. From the 
context we find that our prophet was at first filled with 
fear and trembling ; and that his joy in the Lord was 
not only a source of consolation, but inspired confidence 
and strength. And this is the truth I would now im- 
press upon you. 

Had I time, it would be easy to show that joy is the 
life of any pursuit; that the mind, sluggish and inert 
before, feels and obeys every noble impulse when buoyant 
with happiness, just as a boat which imbedded in the 
sand had been immovable by a cable, is drawn by the 
feeblest cord when afloat upon the water. It is not 
enough to give your child a profession ; he must have a 
taste for it, enthusiasm in it, if he is ever to be distin- 
guished. In the profession of arms what a difference is 
there between two men ; one instinct with martial ardor, 



Joy in the Lord. 203 



his pulses thrilling, all his spirit lifted up by martial 
ambition, bis soul kindling with the stern magnificent 
delights of war;* the other equally brave but discharg- 
ing bis duties only under a sense of obligation, and long- 
ing for the repose of peace. In literature what a differ- 
ence between two scholars; one fired with lofty inspira- 
tions, glowing with thoughts which he feels " posterity 
will not let die;" the other toiling day and night at a 
weary, irksome task. I need not tell you which of these 
soldiers will be a hero; which of these students will 
achieve exalted fame in letters. 

And, now, all this applies even more emphatically to 
the Christian, because piety — far more than any earthly 
pursuit — requires engagedness of heart. As I have 
before remarked, the economy of the Gospel is an econo- 
my of joy. Again and again we are commanded to re- 
joice. In short "the joy of the Lord is our strength." 
Without this joy we will fail to commend the religion of 
Jesus to others, — we will have nothing to commend ; in- 
deed, we will injure that religion ; we will go mourning 
and cause the enemies of the Gospel to say continually 
to us, " Where is now your God?" Without this joy our 
religion will have nothing to recommend it to ourselves; 
it will be only a round of heartless forms and exercises. 
The joy of the Lord is the Christian's strength when called, 
to make sacrifices for Christ and for truth. It is his 
strength in overcoming the world. He only will triumph 
over the pleasures of sin, who can oppose to them the 
greater pleasures of piety ; who, — when tempted by the 
seductions of the passions — can ascend to God and find 
fullness of joy in him. In all our devotions this joy 
must be the life and light of the soul. The closet, the 
sacred pages, the sanctuary, the supper — he who rejoices 
in the God of his salvation experiences inexplicable 
peace, divine consolations, unspeakable assurances and 
foretastes of glory ministered to his spirit through these 
heaven -appointed resources. 

And what shall I more say? This joy is the principle 
which animates the Christian in all the duties of active 



*" Gaudia ceitaminis."— Tacitus. 



204 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

life. It is liis strength and victory when he conies to die. 
I honor the man who seeks to do good because it is his 
duty; but to be a burning and a shining light, there 
must be a burning heart, a soul rejoicing in the service of 
Jesus. It is a noble spectacle to behold a Christian calm- 
ly meeting the last struggle, enduring with patience the 
pains of a protracted illness, and resigning himself tran- 
quilly to the necessity of dying. But is it thus a Chris- 
tian ought to die ? Oh, no. It is the privilege of every 
child of God to have a desire to depart and be with Christ 
which is far better; to long with holy impatience for the 
Eedeemer of his soul ; to close bis eyes upon the whole 
world and feel the sublime attractions of eternity; to ex- 
claim, "My soul longeth, yea even fainteth for the courts 
of the Lord, my heart and my flesh crieth out for the 
living God, when shall I come and appear before God?" 
" Come Lord Jesus, come quickly." It is the privilege 
of every child of God not only to rejoice when fig tree 
and vine and olive wither, but when the whole universe is 
receding from his vision. Then, when flesh and heart 
shall be failing, it will be your privilege, Christian, your 
consolation and joy, to look up and see the heavens 
opened, to triumph in an Almighty Saviour who is the 
strength of your heart and your portion forever, to re- 
joice in the Lord, to exult with transports ineffable and 
full of glory in the God of your salvation. 

Men and brethren, the truths to which you have lis- 
tened this morning address themselves to three classes of 
people, who ought to draw very different conclusions 
from them. 

The first class is composed of those who not only are 
strangers to this joy, but who treat the whole subject 
with indifference, if not with contempt. If these people 
were infidels, their conduct might be explained; but they 
profess to believe the Bible, they reverence the Bible. — 
How strange, then, how astonishing and infatuated their 
course. My friends, have you no desire to know that God 
in whom you live and move and have your being, with 
whom your relations are so intimate that, compared with 
him all earthly objects, those nearest and dearest to you 
are strangers and at a distance ? Have you no wish to 



Joy in Ilif Lord. 205 



love thai God who is the absolute, infinite essential Love, 
and who seeks to win your heart by such proofs of his 
love for you? While all holy intelligences find their 
bliss in harmony with God, can you persist in enmity to 
him? "Whoever hardened himself against God and 
prospered ?" Can you consent to find all your felicity in 
this world, and to be "without God ? ' Without a friend, 
without human sympathy, without a home — this would 
be dreary enough. But "without God!" — without him 
who only is the source of all life, peace, strength, 
victory, glory ; to be bereft of light, his love, his com- 
passion, his grace, his salvation; — what an inward cen- 
tral desolateness this. Are you willing to live thus 
bereaved and lonely, and to die cut off from that joy in 
the Lord which alone can disarm death of its terrors and 
make you more than conqueror over death and hell ? 
Can you, will you, make such a choice, and force your 
way into eternity undone, ruined, wretched, blighted, 
condemned forever? — forever wilfully, wantonly severed 
from that joy in the Lord which is the beatific glory and 
perfection of heaven ? Would that I knew what to say 
to you; but I do not. Mortals, sinners, infatuated slaves 
of the world, why will you die? Who hath bewitched 
you ? What fatal spell is this which stupifies your minds ? 
— How is it that you suffer all that is noble and rational 
in your nature to be thus bound and imbruited by the 
sorcery of your lusts and passions ? 

But I fear my expostulations, my entreaties, my tears 
are all in vain. I leave you a spectacle for angels to gaze 
at in grief and amazement. 

The second class consists of those who profess to be 
Christians; but whose religion has never afforded them 
any of those consolations which give beauty for ashes, 
the oil of joy for mourning, and the garments of praise 
for the spirit of heaviness. And to this class our subject 
is full of solemn instruction. 

Not that there may not be sincere piety with but little 
sensible delight. The promises of salvation are not to 
joy, but to faith, to self denial, to obedience. "If any 
man will come after me, let him deny himself and take 
up his cross and follow me." The experience of many 

9 



206 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

who were models of devotion, whose whole lives adorned 
the Gospel, and who died in the triumphs of a full assur- 
ance, has resembled the prophet's day which was 
"neither clear nor dark, but at the evening time was 
light." Indeed, there is the highest proof of sincerity in 
a loyalty which is still faithful and constant, although 
there are none of those joys which recruit our zeal and 
reinforce our wearied virtue. Certainly that Christian 
gives most glory to God, who, when walking in darkness 
and seeing no light, still stays himself upon the Lord, 
and says, "Though he slay me yet will 1 trust him." — 
Let such be not "weary in well-doing, for in due season 
they shall reap if they faint not." "Light is sown for 
the righteous, and gladness for the upright in heart." — 
It is good for a man to hope and patiently to wait till the 
day break and the shadows flee away. 

But if there be never any consolation; if our religion 
be wholly the fruit of conviction, of fear, of stern com- 
pulsion, of duty with no relish and refreshment, the case 
is very suspicious. For can this be the kingdom of God 
which "is righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy 
Ghost ? " And if we can rest satisfied under such be- 
reavements; if they do not alarm and afflict us; if we do 
not earnestly seek by prayer and obedience to secure the 
joys which God promises to his children; then, indeed, 
every symptom in our malady is most portentous. 

It is, however, above all, to those who have tasted this 
happiness, but who mourn its loss; whose prayer is "Ee- 
store unto us the joys of thy salvation ; or who lament that 
they experience so little of it; — it is to these that our 
subject applies most directly and emphatically. And to 
these, — placing myself among them, — let me speak plain- 
ly and faithfully in finishing this discourse. 

My brethren, it is not often that we have to confess our- 
selves vanquished by the objections which the world 
urges against our sermons; but to-day I am compelled to 
make such a confession. For, while I have been preach- 
ing about this sublime happiness, what have those who 
know us and meet us daily been secretly saying ? Shall I 
tell you? They have been saying, This is all very fine, 
but it is a fancy sketch. This joy in the Lord would be 



Joy in the Lord. 207 

indeed a priceless treasure, but who possesses it? Where 
are the Christians whose lives Bhew that it sustains and 
cheers them? 

Now these humiliating reproaches we must all ac- 
knowledge to be only too well founded, nay to be quite 
unanswerable. And why is this? Why are we so desti- 
tute of this joy, the privation of which is a far sorer pen- 
ury than any outward poverty? To answer this question 
we need only examine our own lives, and observe how 
much they are under the empire of the senses and pas- 
sions. Each professes, indeed, to believe that religion 
is the great thing, the one thing needful; but our 
practical estimate — our cares and toils and sacrifices speak 
a very different language. "!Seek first the kingdom of 
God and his righteousness, and all these things shall be 
added unto you" — this is God's plan. Our plan is just 
the reverse; it is first to secure the objects we covet, leav- 
ing religion to follow and fall in as it can. Hence we 
are what we are. Our feelings, tastes, recollections, im- 
aginations are earthly; and our pietyis the submission of 
the mind and the conscience, not the love of the heart, not 
the holy ardors of a soul united to God by the dearest in- 
timacies, merging, losing itself in him, and finding all its 
desires not only satisfied but anticipated by the very pow- 
er of delighting itself in his fullness. 

Behold the reason why this joy is such an exile from 
our bosoms. The barrenness upon us is not that of the 
fields, but of our souls. Instead of finding in God a 
happiness which indemnifies us for outward losses, we 
are well reconciled to spiritual famine if we can secure 
external prosperity. And, now, having detected the 
cause of this evil, let me beseech you, — if your happiness, 
your usefulness, the health and prosperity of your souls 
be precious in your sight, — at once to apply the remedy. 
And as the disease is chrouic, the cure must be chronic 
also. 

Do we know but little of this sublime happiness which 
tilled the soul of the prophet? It is because this happi- 
ness is the "joy of salvation j" and salvation occupies so 
little of our thoughts and cares. It is because the pas- 
sions leave us so little time and taste for heavenly things. 



208 Richard Fuller s Sermons. 

Apply the remedy. The pardon of sin, the appropriation 
of Christ's righteousness, the peace of a soul reposing in 
the promises of Eternal Truth, the certainty that all 
things are working together for our good, the holy re- 
wards of obedience, the consciousness of increasing holi- 
ness, the sweetness of communion with the Redeemer, the 
anticipations of heaven, the earnests and foretastes of 
heaven, — what things are these, how infinitely superior 
to all earthly gratifications. Let us appreciate these 
inestimable blessings. Salvation, so great salvation, — 
let us seek daily, hourly to know more of the joys of a 
free, full, present, perfect salvation. This, this alone is 
worthy of our cares, toils, prayers, sacrifices. 

Do we know but little of this sublime, spiritual hap- 
piness? It is because this happiness springs from faith, 
it is rejoicing in the Lord ; and our souls are debased by 
the love of the world and the things of the world. Apply 
the remedy. Such a world; a world whose maxims and 
examples war against the soul; a world of which the 
Holy Spirit warns us that, "If any man love the world, 
the love of the Father is not in him ;" — can we forget 
that bright world to which we are passing and allow this 
present evil world to fascinate us with its charms, to 
sweep us along like its own giddy votaries, who know no 
other God and have tasted no other joys? 

Lastly, even when we have come out from the world, 
after we have seen its general vanity and insufficiency, 
and have relinquished it, — how constantly do we carry 
a portion of the world with us into our religion ;— each 
one indemnifying himself for the general renunciation by 
some darling passion, by some object which is only the 
more dangerous because, (while in itself not sinful.) it 
monopolizes all the powers once shared by other objects, 
and thus, — by absorbing our cares and tastes aud 
thoughts — makes itself the centre and circle of our devo- 
tion, becomes our god, and leaves no room for the God 
of heaven. This, this is the great reason why celestial 
joy is not ours ; and to this most insidious evil let us 
apply the remedy. Let us not foolishly think to destroy 
our passions ; God has bestowed upon us few nobler en- 
dowments; and their extinction would be a suicide more 



Joy in the Lord. 209 



criminal and insane than that of the body. We cannot 
extirpate our passions. Those who have attempted this 
in cloisters and monasteries, furnish mournful exempli- 
fications of the consequences which must follow, when 
men prescribe to themselves virtues not designed for men. 
But let us educate cur passions. But let us elevate our 
passions to their true objects. But let us inflame our 
passions by the prospect of riches, honors, pleasures, 
spiritual and eternal. 

Since it has pleased God to place us in the midst of 
such an economy, let us not seek to wrench our hearts 
from objects which ought to be dear to us. But let us 
school these hearts. Let us ever remember that no 
earthly object is essential to our happiness. Let us never 
forget that to all earth-born objects, however endeared 
and cherished, we are united only by ties which each 
hour is dissolving. And if, if we must love something 
supremely, as we must; — if some object must absorb our 
souls, and fill our hearts, and become the ruling passion, 
strong in life and stronger in death, and be all our de- 
sire and all our bliss my soul, dost thou not know 

that object? Hast thou not tasted the preciousness of 
Him who is "the chiefest among ten thousand and al- 
together lovely," who alone is worthy of such a treasure 
as a human heart, and who will repay our love with an 
atfection boundless, changeless, everlasting? Christian, 
love him; love him supremely; make him your ruling 
passion. Venture, venture farther and farther, wade 
deeper and deeper, till you are swallowed up in the 
abysses of that Jove "which passeth knowledge." 

My brethren, my beloved brethren, shall any mortal 
thing dispute our hearts with Jesus ? And possessed of 
his love, what is any earthly privation ? What a gain 
would be the loss of the whole world, if thus our hearts 
were enlarged to make room for him ; if bereft of all, we 
were thus taught to ciing only the more closely to that 
ever lovely, loving and beloved Redeemer. 

Enter into these truths, my dear hearers, and you will 
not be without spiritual pleasures. You will find wis- 
dom's ways to be ways of pleasantness and all her paths 
peace. !Not only hereafter, and for keeping God's com- 



210 Richard Fuller s Sermons. 

mandments — but now, and" Mi" keeping his command- 
ments you will reap " great reward." You will rejoice 
evermore. You will "have your rejoicing in yourself 
alone, and not in another." United to Jesus by a vital 
faith, knowing him, loving him, living in harmony with 
him, all earthly joys will be increased, the sting will be 
so plucked out of all earthly griefs that you will be "as 
sorrowful, yet always rejoicing ;" and — mounting to God 
— gathering all your hopes and confidences and concen- 
trating them in him — exulting that the universe contains 
such a treasure, and in the full triumphant assurance that 
this treasure is yours forever — you will exclaim with the 
sacred rapture of the prophet, "Although the fig tree 
shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vine; the 
labor of the olive shall fail, and the fields shall yield no 
meat; the flock shall be cut off from the fold, and there 
shall be no herds in the stalls; yet I will rejoice in the 
Lord, I will joy in the God of my salvation." 




Mercy Remembered in Wrath. 211 



Sermon ffUiciftft* 



MERCY REMEMBERED IN 
WRATH.* 

" O Lord, in Wrath remember Mercy"— Habakkuk iii : 2. 

THERE are some duties which we never feel until our 
souls are bowed in humility; and the convictions of 
which will be erased by the incessant cares of life, its 
restless urgencies and activities, unless we are frequently 
reminded of them. They resemble signs and notices 
traced on our pavements, which we can read only when 
we look down, and which must be often swept and some- 
times renewed, or they will be entirely obliterated. 

Of these duties the most important is the practical 
recognition of God, as the inspector and controller of all 
things, the supreme moral governor of all men. God is 
so great, and we are so insignificant, that it is preposter- 
ous to suppose he observes our thoughts and actions, — 
such is the atheism of some men ; but nothing can be 
more insincere than this pretext. For — not to speak of 
the impiety concealed under an affectation of humility, 
which makes Jehovah such an one as ourselves and ex- 
cludes him from the management of the earth — let these 
libertines be betrayed into a single good deed and they 
at once regard God as their debtor and seem to think that 
he has nothing to do but to notice and reward this little 
parenthetical accident in a whole life of sin. Others 



* Preached on Thursday, September 26, 1861, a Day appointed 
by the President of the United States for National Fasting, Hu- 
miliation and Prayer. 



212 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

deny that God can ever be angry with us for our actions, 
since sin is never against him but for him. "Shall there 
be evil in a city, and the Lord hath not done it?" "Both 
Herod and Pontius Pilate, with the Gentiles, and the 
people of Israel, were gathered together, to do whatsoever 
thy hand, and thy counsel determined before to be done." 
"Why then doth he yet find fault, for who hath resisted 
his will?" I remember but a single passage in all the 
Scriptures, in which God shuts up the mouth of one of 
his creatures who pleads with him, and it is the over- 
whelming rebuke administered to an incorrigible scoffer, 
who had insulted Jehovah ivith this very blasphemy, — 
to whom the Apostle says, " Nay, but who art thou, 
man, that repliest against God ?" 

The words to which I have invited your meditations 
this morning speak of God's wrath for sin. On this 
solemn day we are summoned to hear not only " the rod," 
but "who hath appointed it.' It was a season of suffer- 
ing and rebuke, of fierce indignation and fearful omen, 
when the prophet uttered the text. Upon such a day, 
we have assembled in this temple, and I know no lan- 
guage, no supplication, more exactly suited to our condi- 
tion than that I have read, " Lord, in wrath remember 
mercy." 

I. Habakkuk uttered this prayer for the nation. — 
Tempests and hurricanes try the strength of a ship, and 
disclose its leaks. And as a people Ave come before God 
in a time of terrible calamity, when everything in our 
political organization is strained and staggering and 
threatening shipwreck; when the noble vessel which, 
freighted with such rich and glorious hopes, once rode 
triumphantly on her course, is quivering from keelson to 
crosstrees, is smitten by blasts and lashed by raging bil- 
lows that may well cause the heart of the stoutest pilot 
to quail and his face to gather paleness. Thirty years 
ago there appeared on the skirts of our horizon a cloud 
no bigger than a man's hand. There it has since hung 
portentously, mustering gloomy elements of destruction, 
ever and anon shooting baleful fires, muttering deep 



Mercy Remembered in Wrath. 213 

though distant thunders. And now the heavens are all 
black with clouds, and a storm is discharging itself upon 
us, sweeping like a tropical tornado, mocking to scorn all 
human skill and power in its fierceness and its fury. 
Such is our condition. And the first truth suggested by 
the text and the occasion is, that as a nation we are 
guilty, and God is angry with us for our sins. 

While partisan politics should be scrupulously excluded 
from the pulpit, the duties of states, rulers, legislators, 
are a very different thing, and belong to religion. In 
the teachings of the Bible, nations have an organic char- 
acter, and they are constantly held to a responsibility for 
their conduct as rigorous as that of individuals.* Nor 
was there ever a period when it was more necessary to 
urge upon governments the great maxim, recorded by the 
wisest of princes, after long experience, that "Righteous- 
ness exalteth a nation." 

"Righteousness;" and by this I mean true religion. 
Governments are established for purposes strictly tem- 
poral, churches for purposes strictly spiritual. The 
union of Church and State is, therefore, as incongruous 
a thing as would be the combination of the church with 
a gas company or a railroad corporation. But let us 
not go to the other extreme. Let us never forget that a 
state, like an individual, must have a religion. Civil law 
and philosophy cannot repress the depravities of our 
nature. Without the controlling fear of God, men would 
have to be governed as the keeper of wild beasts predom- 
inates over his menagerie — distributing food to some, 
and blows to others whose might and ferocity could rend 
him to pieces in a moment. A state must have a religion, 



* "The iniquity of the Amorites is not yet full." " That the 
blood of all the propheti which was shed from the foundation of 
the world, may be required of this generation, from the blood of 
Abel unto the blood of Zachariah, which perished between the 
altar and the temple; Verily 1 say unto you, it shall be required 
of this generation." These and similar passages find their inter- 
pretation in the fact that nations are regarded as moral persons 
having a certain duration of life and accountable for their conduct^ 

9 * 



214 Ricliard Fuller s Sermons. 



and it must be the true religion; otherwise, Solomon's 
proverb is a glaring falsehood. How can a nation be 
elevated by the religion of idolatry, which mocks God 
and degrades all that is noble in humanity ? How can 
a nation be exalted by the religion of superstition, which 
stultifies the human intellect? or by the faith of the 
fanatic, w T ith its unrelenting malignity? or by the heresy 
of the antinomian, which turns the grace of God into 
licentiousness ? 

By " Kighteousness''* I mean the doctrines and spirit 
of the Gospel. These are the true strength and glory 
of a nation — a proposition this which is almost self- 
evident. 

For, if we use the term nation as comprehending the 
whole people, we at once feel that the real prosperity and 
glory of a community are not wealth, nor numbers, nor 
flourishing commerce, nor splendid palaces, nor magnifi- 
cent armies and victories and triumphal arches. May 
God deliver us from such prosperity, unless it be hallowed 
to a noble use. The great thing in a state is man him- 
self; and the only true prosperity of a people is the 
moral elevation of the citizen — the intelligence, virtue, 
integrity, domestic purity, which cause the human soul 
to grow, and which are inbred and nourished by the 
religion of Jesus. Society is a structure whose stability 
depends not upon the accomplishments and refinements 
of a few elevated minds, but upon the principles which 
the Gospel establishes in the public heart and conscience ; 
it is a monument supported by its granite base, not by the 
sculptured ornaments that decorate and crown its shaft. 

Or, if we employ the word nation with reference to the 
government, there is no civil polity which Christianity 
does not convert into a source of honor and happiness. 
It corrects the abuses of a monarchy; it rebukes the pride 
and ambition of an aristocracy ; above all, it reaches and 
purifies the springs of a popular administration, shedding 
the most healthful influence over all the institutions of 
the republic. 

Nations, then, like individuals, are accountable to God. 
Governments are kept to a strict reckoning, and the con- 
stituency who invest rulers with authority are dealt with 



Mercy Remembered in Wrath. 215 

as stewards to whom God has delegated mosi solemn 
trusts. And, now, it' a nation — especially a nation 
blessed with the Gospel — shall be perfidious to its duty, 

why then it stands before the Moral Governor of the uni- 
verse as a heinous criminal, and will be dealt with as 
such. It will be dealt with now. For individuals there 
is a judgment after death, and they may be left to the 
retributions of eternity; but nations, as such, exist only 
in the present economy. "While it is most unjust, then, 
to pronounce any man guilty because he is afflicted — a 
cruelty which Jesus condemned in the insinuation of the 
Jews as to the man born blind — it may be affirmed with 
positive certainty, that no judgment ever falls upon a 
nation except as a chastisement for national sins. And 
it is with equity that nations are sorely punished. "At 
what instant 1 shall speak concerning a nation and con- 
cerning a kingdom, to build and to plant it" — such is the 
language in which Jehovah declares that nations are 
established by him for high raid holy purposes. Their 
work is of course transcendently more momentous than 
that of any individual. They are the ministers, the 
apostles created and ordained by sovereign wisdom and 
love for the sublimest mission; and just in proportion to 
the trust confided to them, will be their guilt, if they 
prove faithless. 

My friends, the propositions which I have thus ad- 
vanced commend themselves at once to your minds. Xor 
can I have announced these truths even thus generally, 
without forcing upon you the conviction thatwe are most 
guilty, and that God is correcting us for our sins. "When, 
where, I ask you, under the whole heavens, has there 
ever been a people so distinguished by the special marks 
of the favor of the Most High ? When, where, a people 
so signally raised up to be a blessing to the whole earth ? 
And when, where, a people who have been more perfidi- 
ous to their high calling? "And shall J not visit for 
these things, saith the Lord, shall not my soul be avenged 
upon such a nation as this? 

All this, however, I feel to be too vague. These gen- 
eralities affect nobody. Let us then go a little into detail. 
Of course, you will understand me as referring to our 



216 Richard Fuller's Sermoiis. 

sins before any disruption had severed the Union and 
rent it into hostile fragments. Were I to speak of the 
iniquities now crying to heaven from every portion of 
the land, I should be compelled to place this unnatural 
war at the head of the list. Upon whom the guilt lies, 
I leave for the Judge of all to determine. I owe it to 
you, who have ever generously spared your pastor the 
misery of seeing the harmony of a church dearer to him 
than life disturbed by politics — I owe it to the sanctity 
of this hour — to the charity of this place — to the purity 
of this pulpit from which Christ only has ever been 
preached, not to breathe a whisper upon so delicate and 
painful a question. 

My brethren, when I so far forget my duty to you, to 
my office, to my Master who says " My kingdom is not of 
this world," — when I can so degrade the Christian minis- 
try, as to descend into the arena of political strife and 
partisan clamor; above all, when, at such an awful crisis 
as this, instead of weeping between the porch and the 
altar and mingling with you in the profoundest humilia- 
tion, instead of lifting up that cross which speaks peace 
among men — I am found fulminating anathemas from 
this desk, seeking to inflame the worst passions of the 
human heart, and to intensify wrath, hatred, malice, 
vindictiveness among those who ought to Jove as brothers ; 
— when I am thus recreant to men and to God, then 
cease to respect me, class me among those apostates from 
the religion of the meek and loving Jesus who have for 
years been casting firebrands into that temple, around 
whose altars our fathers — the Morning Stars of this 
glorious Republic — sang together and shouted for joy. 

But were T to speak of the sins now crying to heaven 
from every part of the land, I would place this dismal 
fratricidal war at the head of the dark catalogue. For 
war is a crime, always everywhere a crime, the prolific 
source of the worst crime ; nor can any man become its 
advocate who reflects upon the immortality and accounta- 
bility of the thousands that, wholly unprepared, with the 
fiercest passions glowing in their breasts, are hurried in- 
stantaneously from the battle-field into the presence of 
the Supreme Judge. The only arms of a Christian, his 



Mercy Remembered in Wrath. 217 

only victories are those of peace.* Jesus commands us 
to love our enemies, and to do them all the good we can ; 
war requires us to hate our enemies, and to do them all 
the harm we can. In the words of the Apostle, "Wars 
and lightings come from the lusts that war in our corrupt 
natures/' In the language of one of the noblest men of 
this or any age — of one whose work has long been a 
classic in our schools and colleges, and whom 1 must ever 
love and honor, "ail wars are contrary to the revealed will 
of God; and the individual has no right to commit to 
society, nor society to commit to the government, the 
power to declare war. Hence, to all arguments brought 
in favor of war, it would be a sufficient answer, that God 
has forbidden it, and that no consequences can be possi- 
bly conceived to arise from keeping his law, so terrible 
as those which must arise from violating it. God com- 
mands us to love every man, alien or citizen, Samaritan 
or Jew, as ourselves; and the act neither of society, nor 
of government can render it our duty to violate this 
command, "f 

But this thought has carried me farther than I intended. 
You will understand me as alluding to the United States 
in their integrity ; for it is in reference to our sins as a 
whole people, that God is punishing us. It is of these 
sins I speak. 

And, now, what shall I say ? AVhere shall I begin ? 
Where can I end ? "Ah! sinful nation, a people laden 
with iniquity, a seed of evil doers, children that are cor- 
rupters ; they have forsaken the Lord, they have provoked 
the Holy One of Israel to anger. Why should ye be 
stricken any more ? The while head is sick, and the 
whole heart faint, from the sole of the foot, even unto 
the head, there is no soundness in it, but wounds and 
bruises and putrefying sores." God in mercy grant, that 
it may not be necessary soon to add the dreary dirge of 
the prophet which follows that description : " Your 
country is desolate, your cities burnt with fire, your land 
strangers devour it in your presence." 



*Victori3e, difflciles, quidem, et incruentae, illis bellicis et 
cruentis longe pulchriores. — Milton, Defens, Sec. p. 731. 
fWayland's Moral Science, p. 441. 



218 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

Our Sins. And let me begin with those of our General 
Government. It is the doctrine "of demagogues, that, as 
the whole people cannot meet, they elect delegates who 
are to obey their instructions. But this idea of principal 
and agent has no place in a representative government. 
The true theory of such a system is, that men are chosen 
who are eminent for wisdom, uprightness, dignity, expe- 
rience, and that they are to administer public affairs for 
the good of the nation. Now, our Federal Government 
rests entirely upon the Constitution; but, while Ave pro- 
fess to be a Christian people, that Constitution is a docu- 
ment absolutely atheistical. Eegarded only in its politi- 
cal aspects, that instrument is certainly a noble monument 
of human wisdom and patriotism. Would that its in- 
tegrity had ever been preserved inviolate ! Were I not a 
Christian I could know no wish dearer to my heart, than 
once more to see that august charter restored to its origi- 
nal virtue, — knowing no North, no South, no East, no 
West — but, full high advanced as an ensign to the nation, 
like the pillar of hie and cloud, heralding a united peo- 
ple to honor and true glory. But, while the jurist must 
admire the Constitution, the Christian must regard it 
with sorrow and alarm. From the first word to the last, 
there is not even an allusion to that Being who is the 
king of nations, who, armed with infinite power, pervades 
all nature with his presence, and sits as Supreme Head of 
the universe. Had it been composed by Pagans, or Mo- 
hammedans, or Atheists, it could not have shut out every 
idea of Deity with a more irreligious precaution. 

Under the provisions of this Constitution, legislators 
and rulers are appointed by the people ; and what, at least 
for forty years, have been the qualifications required? 
Disinterestedness? virtue? piety? Nothing of the kind. 
The single question has everywhere been as to allegiance 
to some faction struggling for power. He is a good Dem- 
ocrat, a good lvepublican, his record shows his loyalty to 
a party, if elected all his energies will be devoted to a 
party, he will seek to exalt a party, and to secure the 
spoils of victory for a party. Suppose, during any can- 
vass for the last forty years, that some candidate had been 
proposed, whose claim was based upon his uprightness 



Mercy Remembered in Wrath. 219 



and purity, what caucus would haveselected such a leader? 
Suppose (but the very idea is preposterous) I hat at t lie hust- 
ings people should ever have been urged to range them- 
selves on the Lord's side, and to cast their suffrages for 
a man, because — in addition to other excellences — he 
Mas superior to party, and was a meek and faithful dis- 
ciple of Jesus; where, when, would such an appeal 
have provoked anything but astonishment and secret 
ridicule ? Reflect upon the arts and intrigues employed 
to secure success at our elections. It may be safely 
affirmed, that, from Maine to Texas, bribery and corrup- 
tion have been the common weapons of political rivalry, 
and that the traffic in votes has got to be a business as 
well established and as industriously and systematically 
pursued as any merchandize in the stores or the sham- 
bles. Thus elected, our rulers and representatives 
assemble at Washington; and you know what the eye of 
God has seen there, with a few noble exceptions. There 
the Sabbath has been openly despised. There the name 
of God has been everywhere blasphemed. There pride, 
luxury, licentiousness, have held their carnivals. There 
power and patronage have been abused for selfish and 
mercenary objects. There vast sums extorted from hon- 
est industry have been most profligately wasted and often 
embezzled. And there — in the very halls which ought 
to be consecrated to calm wisdom and true patriotism, to 
the good of mankind and the fear of God, — there has 
been exhibited a ruffianism which would have disgraced 
barbarians. Sectional rancor, party malignity, low, 
ribald, personal scurrility — these have long been among 
the most striking elements of our parliamentary rhetoric. 
And bludgeons, daggers, pistols, bowie knives, the threats 
and blows of the assassin, the deliberate murders of the 
duellist — these have been the conspicuous proofs of our 
parliamentary wisdom and piety. And think you, my 
friends, as the Lord formerly said to his prophet Ezekiel, 
think you, "it is a light thing that such abominations 
are committed ?" No, G )d will visit, God is now visiting 
us for sins like these in high places. 

When from the General Government we pass to that of 
the States, we find the same sins flaunting through the 



220 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

land; the same bribery, the same corruptions, the same 
frauds, the same embezzlements, the same violence, the 
same — in short, the same outrages upon all religion and 
patriotism. But looking at this State, becoming a pro- 
phet in my own country, I find a new count in the indict- 
ment. I refer to Slavery. All who know anything of so 
humble an individual as myself, know my sentiments as 
to this institution. Here it is. We are not responsible for 
its introduction ; and he is either a politician, or a man 
made mad not by much learning but much ignorance, 
who asserts that it would be wise suddenly to eradicate 
it from our social system. But have we been faithful to 
this other race who are in our power, and therefore espe- 
cially entrusted to our care ? Have we recognized their 
relation to us as members of a common fatherhood and 
brotherhood? Have we rendered to them — to their 
bodies, minds, souls — "the things that are just and equal, 
remembering that we too have a Master in heaven?" 

Let us go on and glance at the guilt of our churches. 
Jesus is especially jealous of the purity and fidelity of 
his church ; it is his peculiar treasure, purchased with 
his own blood. There have been many fiery disputes as 
to the true church. Peace to the ashes of all such con- 
troversies! In the Scriptures the Greek term translated 
"church" is ecclesia, a noun derived from the verb eccaleo, 
to call out. The church of Christ is a body called by 
grace out of the world; called that it may, by its holiness, 
condemn the world, as righteous Lot " condemned the 
wickedness of Sodom ;" called to exemplify the doctrines 
of the Gospel, and thus be a light to the world. The 
members of this church publicly profess that they "are 
not their own," — that their wealth, talents, influence, 
time, life, are all offered as a grateful sacrifice to the Re- 
deemer. Nor is their duty restricted to this or any land. 
The church exists under a constitution which binds it 
to "go into all the world and preach the Gospel to every 
creature." Enter into these truths; then look at the 
bodies called churches and the people called Christians, 
—the worldliness, pride, covetousness, selfishness, which 
have effaced almost entirely every line of demarkation 
between the church and the world. "Are there not with 



Mercy Remembered in Wrath. 221 

— -■ ■ — 

you, oven with you, sins against the Lord your God?" — 
Nor tell me that, for this perfidy and perjury, God will 
punish the churches. This is true. To the minister 
commissioned to execute vengeance upon guilty Jerusa- 
lem the command was " Begin at my sanctuary." Judg- 
ment may begin at the house of God; but — as the fires of 
Sodom paid no regard to the houses and possessions of 
Lot, — so, when Jonah betrayed his trust, the winds and 
waves did not distinguish between him and those who 
were with him, but smote the ship until it was well nigh 
" broken in pieces." 

It is a beautiful thought of the Apostle, when writing 
to heads of families among the first disciples, he sends 
greetings to the "churches in their houses." In the con- 
templation of the Gospel, every Christian family ought 
to be a church. There, within a shrine more sacred than 
aisle and chancel and "fretted vault," the father, as a 
priest over his own house, is to offer morning and evening 
incense. And there the holy influence of a mother's love 
is to embrace the earliest affections of her children — 
their young faith, hope, love — and twine them like ten- 
drils around the Cross, that they may spring and grow 
upwards. The family ought to find its type not only in 
the church on earth, but the church in heaven. What a 
mournful contrast to such a community is presented to 
the sight of God by the families of this land. To what 
different objects are the cares and solicitudes of most pa- 
rents devoted. I know that when your child dies, you 
assure us that your great concern is about the soul and 
its salvation ; but how can we believe you, when we ob- 
serve your conduct towards those children who are still 
spared ? when we see in you scarcely a desire that they 
maybe humble followers of Jesus, but restless, bound- 
less anxiety that they may be rich and honored, may 
gratify those passions which war against the soul ? You 
are priests, not to devote your offspring to God, but to 
decorate them as offerings to the world and its fatal at- 
tractions. Here, in this domestic unfaithfulness, is a 
crime so unnatural and shocking, that God's peculiar 
displeasure burns against it; and we hear his prophet 
uttering this frightful anathema: "Pour out thy fury 
upon the families that call not upon thy name." 



222 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

Up to this time I have been speaking of the sins com- 
mitted by bodies raised up by God to meet the social 
wants of our nature. But as these organizations are com- 
posed of the members of society, if we would go to the 
sources of our crimes, we must turn our eyes to the com- 
munity around us. And, when we draw within the cir- 
cle of our observation the character and manners of the 
world in which we live, what dismal phenomena present 
themselves on every side. "Thus saith the Lord, for three 
■transgressions of Damascus, yea for four, will I not turn 
away the punishment thereof. 

Atheism. We are shocked at this charge. But God 
is the moral Governor of the universe. Not to recognize 
him is atheism. And we can look nowhere, without see- 
ing that, in their thoughts, their plans, their whole 
lives, almost all men are "without God in the world." 

Ingratitude. Review the history of this nation, and 
you will instinctively exclaim, " He hath not dealt thus 
with any people." How have we dealt with him ? In- 
stead of leading us to repentance, his goodness has nour- 
ished vanity, boasting, an insane independence. Our 
vaunted refinement has been a whited sepulchre, fair 
without, but "within full of dead men's bones and all 
uncleanness." Wealth has become a suare and a bane. 
Prosperity has ministered to pride, arrogance, luxury. — 
" Because they have no changes, therefore they fear not 
God." These disasters were needed. God has tried blessings 
upon us; he is now trying judgments. He is saying "1 
will go and return unto my place, till they acknowledge 
their offences and seek my face. In their affliction they 
will seek me early." 

A degeneracy from all true love of country. Mr. Web- 
ster was the last of a noble army of martyrs who took in 
the whole Republic in their ample patriotism; and he 
fell a victim to his magnanimity. We have become a na- 
tion of politicians and scramblers for office, giving up to 
section and party and self, the zeal and devotion which 
were due the public weal; filled under the pretence of 
principle with restless eager vanity; convulsing society 
by the incessant, often vindictive struggles of ambition 
in men born for obscurity, and who hesitate at nothing — 



Mercy Remembered in Wrath. 323 



no calumny, corruption, treachery — if they may bur sup- 
plant a rival and grasp that most seductive oi' all pri: 
political power. 

A fourth evil under our sun lias been the decay of that 
love of liberty which inspired the venerable Father of his 

country and all those heroical men who laid the founda- 
tions of this free government, causing them to pledge 
their lives, their interests and their sacred honor to an 
undertaking so sublime. This loyalty to freedom has 
long been ; - ready to die." If these distractions continue 
long, I fear a ruined, demoralized, exhausted people will 
be ready to exchange liberty for repose even under a des- 
potism. May God help us to "be watchful and strengthen 
the things that remain." 

Everywhere among our population is seen a fifth and 
heinous iniquity. It is a contempt for the Revelation 
which has been in mercy vouchsafed to us. No mortal 
thought can appreciate the worth of the Bible, the Sab- 
bath and the Sanctuary. That volume, to unloose whose 
seals the Lamb of God welcomed death, has notonlv been 
openly assailed by Infidelity, but its sacred pages have 
been everywhere neglected. The Sanctuary has been des- 
pised. And for convenience, for pleasure, for profit, the 
Sabbath has been profaned by the people, by corporations, 
by judges, by rulers: and this often under the auspices 
of legislative enactments. 

In enumerating the sins which especially attract the 
curses of heaven, Isaiah specifies one which "is peculiarly 
an American vice, though it is indeed the besetting sin 
of humanity. " Wo unto them who add house to house, 
and land to land." "Covetousness is idolatry." Idolatry 
is not a speculative error; it bows the whole man down. 
and binds and moulds all the passions of its votaries.— 
Hence idolatry is the object of God's signal detestation. 
And if this be so, we can be at no loss for the cause of 
these chastisements visited upon this nation. For here 
is an idolatry which pervades all classes and conditions. 
To it the whole land is devoted as a temple. Its power 
surrounds and presses us like the atmosphere. Seven 
days are too i'^w for its week of sabbaths. Dayand night 
are too short for its devout worship. 



224 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

We are a by-word over the whole earth for this reckless 
lust of money; for a profligate eagerness to amass large 
fortunes, with but little prudery about the means em- 
ployed. Our mercantile code has repealed every letter 
of the Sermon on the Mount. On 'Change, it is not Je- 
sus, but Machiavelli who teaches ethics. Success is merit, 
failure is crime. Uprightness is no longer with us — 
what it was to our simple forefathers — an ultimate good ; 
it is only the means to an end. The morality of trade 
finds its oracles neither in the Word of God nor in con- 
science, but in the low calculations of expediency and 
profit. Honesty is a virtue while it is the best policy; 
otherwise it is a commodity too costly for us to deal in. 

A reputation for integrity is chiefly important because it 
is a profitable investment. The great thing is to get 
money. If the representative man of this age and coun- 
try could, like Paul, be caught up into the third heaven, 
it would prove only the ecstasy of a speculator and ad- 
venturer ; his only beatific vision would be the golden 
streets; and when brought back his only grief would be 
that so many trodden shekels had been left behind. At 
every turn is seen the jobber described by Solomon, saying, 
"It isnaught,itis naught, bntwhen he goeth his way, then 
he boasteth." This every day rogue is, however, too in- 
significant to attract much notice. If we would compre- 
hend the cool atrocity of unprincipled and exhaustless 
enterprise which has placed us, as a commercial people, 
upon such a bad eminence, we must study it in our stock 
gamblers, and rich bankrupts, and above all in the plun- 
derers of our public exchequers. That a man may be 
honest as a citizen, pious as a church member, and yet an 
unscrupulous knave as a politician — this is a maxim not 
confined to us. But there is one proverb, of which we 
can claim the exclusive authorship. It is, that fraud 
loses half its infamy, by losing all its timidity. What 
would be theft in a shop, is, in a public office, the com- 
mendable forethought of the unjust steward in the para- 
ble. The felony which would consign a merchant's 
clerk to the dungeon for life, need only be committed 
against the Government, and be multiplied by a hundred 
thousand, and it at once rises to something like respecta- 



Mercy Remembered in Wrath. 225 



bility. It meets not only sympathy, but a sort of admi- 
ration. 

As T said, howeYer, I will never have done with these 
details. Everywhere guilt and corruption stalk abroad 
with unblushing front. The land mourns for drunken- 
ness; and this State, like others, derives much of its rev- 
enue from licenses to curse women with a blight far more 
mournful than widowhood, to make children worse than 
orphans, to destroy soul and body for time and eternity. 
Men's mouths are full of cursing; children are baptized 
unto profanity, and are perfected in it at our schools and 
on our streets. In fine, Jehovah says, " Cursed be the 
man that trusteth in man, and maketh flesh his arm, and 
whose heart departeth from the Lord." And if ever a 
people defied that imprecation, we are the people. Men 
and brethren, Cotton is not king; God is King. Gun- 
powder is not king; education is not king; the constitu- 
tion is not king ; the people are not king ; the President 
is not king; the army is not king. No, no, "The Lord 
he is God, the Lord he is God." But, as fire had to come 
down from heaven, and vindicate the sovereignty of Jeho- 
vah, and thus extort from Israel that sublime confession; 
so God will have to burn up our earthly confidences, be- 
fore we will know that the Lord is God, and, casting 
away all our idols, will crown Jesus Lord of all. 

IT. As a nation we are most guilty and God is angry 
with us for onr sins; I was right when I made this asser- 
tion. I pass now to a second truth of most solemn portent, 
which I must treat briefly, but to which, for that very 
reason, it becomes you all at this time to give the more 
earnest heed. This proposition is, that present chastise- 
ments are oftentimes only the precursors of more fearful 
dispensations. 

That judgment has begun upon us, you, alas! require 
no preacher to warn you. It is written in the Book of 
Judges, that when Benjamin, "little Benjamin," was 
alienated from Israel, the men of all the other cribes 
"came to the house of God, and abode there till evening 
before God, and lifted up their voices and wept sore, and 
said Lord God of Israel, why is this come to pass in 



226 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

Israel, that there should be to-day one tribe lacking in 
Israel ?" Would that we hod witnessed such a lovely 
spectacle of affection among the members of this Union, 
at the period when one of them, a little one — but dear to 
my heart — was separated from the other States. Would 
that we could see this spirit of true patriotism and piety 
to-day. Would that — instead of declamations and ha- 
rangues which exasperate malignant passions — we all, 
the people, the rulers, the ministers of Christ, were this 
morning gathered in the house of God, bathed in tears, 
and saying, Lord God of our Fathers, why is this come 
to pass in the land, that there should be so many tribes 
lacking in Israel ? Why is it? Who is guilty of the sin 
which hath brought this sore calamity upon us ? Search 
us, God — and search our brethren who are severed 
from us, and restore us to the paths of righteousness and 
peace! Xor has there been only alienation. "The 
primal eldest curse" is on us. The soil redeemed by our 
common fathers has been soaked with fraternal blood. 
Such is our bitter affliction, after naming which, I can 
hardly think of our commercial stagnation and desola- 
tion, sad as that is ; or of the pecuniary distress and 
poverty which multitudes are facing but cannot outface. 

All this, however, may be only the premonition of 
what is to come. There is at present a pause ; — may it 
not be that God is giving us " space to repent ?" — that he 
has waited for this day, to try us and see if we will hum- 
ble ourselves and forsake our sins? There is a pause; — 
but it may be only the calm which precedes the rush of 
the whirlwind — the interval between the roar of a distant 
park of artillery, and the crash of the iron tempest shiv- 
ering, shattering everything in its path. 

Present judgments are the precursors of more fearful 
judgments, when, instead of bowing humbly before the 
Chastener and seeking deliverance from him, a people 
harden their hearts and proudly rely upon their own wis- 
dom and power. Thus it was with Pharoah. At first he 
reeled under the strokes from an unseen almighty hand; 
but soon he rallied, and resolved to brave and light the 
crisis out in his own imperial grandeur. You remember 
the issue. Bolt followed bolt, till he perished miserably 



Mercy Remembered in Wrath, 227 

forever. How docs this article appl y to yon, my brethren ? 
I do not know. J cannot decide. I therefore say nothing. 
But you know. You can decide. You can answer. 

Present judgments are premonitions of more fearful 
judgments, when the terrors and supplications of a people 
have reference not to their guilt, but to their dangers and 
losses. ''Lord when thy hand is lifted up, they will not 
see." Nothing can more outrage a jealous God than this 
temper which, even under his chastisements, only proves 
how resolutely he is contemned, and how tenaciously the 
world is loved. Genuine sorrow is described as " Godly 
sorrow*' — that is to say, it is sorrow such as we may sup- 
pose God to feel in view of sin : it is grief like that 
which pierced the Redeemer's heart, when he saw the 
city and wept over it ; it is anguish for the insult offered to 
the tenderest of Fathers, and for the wrong inflicted upon 
the soul. With this the Scriptures contrast " the sorrow 
of the wot Id," — a distress purely selfish — misery, not 
from a sense of the evil of sin, but from the fear of its 
punishment. How does this article apply to you, my 
brethren? I do not know. I cannot decide. I there- 
fore say nothing. But you know. You can decide. 
You can answer. 

Our last maxim as to the laws by which God is wont 
to regulate his dealings with a people when once he 
begins to afflict them, has respect to the sincerity of their 
repentance under his first visitations. "The word of the 
Lord came unto me saying, at what instant I shall speak 
concerning a nation, and concerning a kingdom, to pluck 
up, and to pull down and to destroy it; if that nation against 
whom I have pronounced turn from their evil, I will 
repent of the evil that 1 thought to do them." At the 
commencement of this year we assembled in this sanctu- 
ary to confess our sins as a nation and individuals, to 
humble ourselves beneath the impending vengeance of 
heaven, and to hear and obey "the voice of the rod." 
Were you then sincere? Or did you only mock God? 
"When he slew them, then they sought him; they 
returned and enquired early after God ; and they remem- 
bered that God was their rock, and the high God their 
Redeemer. Nevertheless they did flatter him with their 



228 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

mouths, and they lied unto him with their tongues." 
It rests with you, men and brethren, to apply this 
thought. How does it affect you? What have been the 
fruits of all the confessions you uttered on that solemn 
fast-clay ? of all the vows you then made ? of all the tears 
you then shed ? I do not know. I cannot speak. I 
cannot answer. But you know. You can speak. Yon 
can answer. 

And yet why may I not speak? why may I not decide? 
why should I not answer? Ah, my brethren, my breth- 
ren, if I were to apply these tests severely, and by them 
forecast your destiny, I should have no heart to stand 
here and plead with you for God, or with God for you. 
If I did not remember that into whatever depths we may 
sink, the blood of Christ can reach and rescue us. — that 
"even from thence, if we seek the Lord our God, we 
shall find him, if we seek him with all our heart and 
with all our soul," — if I did not remember this, I should 
be dumb, for my ministry could be only a prophecy of 
mourning, lamentation, and woe ; fearfulness and trem- 
bling would take hold on me, and rivers of waters would 
run down my eyes, for I would know that the calamities 
now pressing upon us are only the faint presages of 
calamities far more terrible; coming events would, to my 
vision, scarf and muffle up all the future in lurid dismal 
clouds and darkness. If God's w T ays were as our ways, 
and his thoughts as our thoughts, my ears would but 
take in these dreadful words, " I will cast them out of 
my sight. Therefore pray not thou for this people, 
neither lift up cry nor prayer for them, neither make in- 
tercession to me ; for I will not hear thee." " Though 
Moses and Samuel stood before me, my mind could not 
be towards this people." If God's ways Avere as our ways, 

and his thoughts as our thoughts but, blessed be 

his gracious name! hosannahs to that love which hath 
interposed to save the lost, to respite the righteous sen- 
tence and arrest the lifted thunder! thanks be unto God! 
his ways are not as our ways, neither are his thoughts as 
our thoughts. It is when reasoning with guilty man on 
this very subject of pardon for the vilest, that our injured 
Father repeats over and over the most earnest tender as- 



Mercy Remembered in Wrath. 229 

surances of his long-suffering forgiving mercy. And it 
is these assurances which embolden me again to unite 
with you and lead your devotions on this solemn occasion. 
It is because " He, being full of compassion, forgives our 
iniquities and destroys us not, but many a time turns his 
anger away, and does not stir up all his wrath," — itis this 
which has encouraged me to come here, and exhort, ani- 
mate, console you; to conjure } t ou by the mercies of God, 
and by all your hopes and fears, that your penitence, your 
faith, your reformation may be such as to avert the over- 
hanging wrath, and to attract the blessings promised to 
the humble and the contrite. 

u O Lord, in wrath remember mercy!" This was the 
prayer with which I began this discourse. And this 
prayer I adjure you to make your fervent, effectual, un- 
relaxing supplication, until these calamities shall be over- 
past. But remember, this prayer is the cry of a soul lying 
low before God, and fixing its pleading eye steadfastly 
upon that great atonement through which alone mercy 
can reach such wretches as we are. Xor can it be uttered 
sincerely, unless we enter into its spirit and breathe all 
its sighs and aspirations. 

This prayer cannot be ours, until we awake from insen- 
sibility under the anger of the great and dreadful God. 
"Yet they were not afraid, nor rent their garments, 
neither the king nor any of his servants." Apathy under 
God's judgments is an "evident token of perdition" upon 
a smitten people. And with reason. For it betrays a 
rooted unbelief, hardness, contempt, most insulting to 
the Majesty of heaven. 

Xor can we truly utter this prayer, until we recognize 
God's purposes in chastening us, and comply with tnem. 
A\ hether he afflicts us to bring our sins to remembrance, 
or to show us their heinousness, or to wean us from our 
idolatry, or to assert his sovereignty o\er us and all we 
have and hope for, our first duty is to correspond to his 
movements. "Righteous art thou,0 Lord, when I plead 
with thee, yet let me talk with thee of thy judgments." 
"I will say unto God, do not condemn me. Show me 
wherefore thou contendest with me." " Clouds and dark- 
ness are round about thee ; righteousness and judgment 

10 



230 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

are the habitation of thy throne." Such must be the lan- 
guage of our hearts; and our lives must attest the sin- 
cerity of this confession, this sympathy with the divine 
will concerning us. 

Lastly, we use this prayer and supplication only when, 
acknowledging our sins, having our iniquities always be- 
fore us, we renounce all other hope and cast ourselves ut- 
terly upon the mercy of God through Christ Jesus our 
Saviour. To frame excuses — to trust in our own strength, 
in chariots and horses and armies — to confess the sins of 
others and exaggerate their guilt, and dare to appeal to 
the scrutiny of Omniscient Justice for our own innocence 
— all this is impiously to invoke unmingled wrath, un- 
mitigated ruin. 

No, no, there is only one single hope left us : u Lord, 
in wrath, remember mercy." But this hope is left us, 
and inspired by this hope. I do not despond for this land; 
I am full of confidence; my soul rises from the dust, and 
stands erect, and rejoices in full assurance of compassion, 
mercy, deliverance from on high. I cannot despond, for 
my expectations are from Him who hath promised, and 
who " keepeth covenant and mercy." J will not, cannot 
despond. God's love in times past forbids the thought, 
that he will abandon us amidst these raging waves, that 
he can leave us to perish in this fiery ordeal. His own 
right hand, his stretched out arm hath planted a people 
on these shores. He hath distinguished them abovcall 
nations by his loving kindness and tender care. He hath 
been our help in ages gone by ; and, " because he hath 
been our help, therefore in the shadow of his wings we 
will rejoice." This whole people, from ocean to ocean, 
from the lakes to the gulf, have cried to him again and 
again. This day, we — the people, the rulers, magistrates, 
judges, his churches — fall at his feet, and, with united 
heart and voice, deprecate the vengeance we justly merit, 
and supplicate the mercy he hath graciously promised. 
"Promotion cometh neither from the East, nor from the 
West, nor from the South ; but God is the judge ; he put- 
teth down one, and setteth up another." And, though 
these afflictions are for the present not joyous but most 
grievous and heart-rending, yet I must question the effi- 



Mercy Remembered in Wrath. 231 

cacy of prayer, before I can doubt thai "afterwards they 
will work the peaceable fruits of righteousness," through 
the overruling power and wisdom oi* Him who doeth all 
things well. 

But it is lime for me to finish. My dearly beloved 
friends and brethren, I have spoken to you not as I 
wished, but as I could. You have heard truths not de- 
signed to flatter but to save you, and uttered in the sim- 
plicity, honesty, affection which become a Christian 
pulpit, instead of neglecting this call to humiliation, fast- 
ing and prayer, I have eagerly availed myself of it, T 
only wish we could observe such a day every week, until 
our cries shall move Him who doth not willingly afflict 
the children of men, who threatens that he may be dis- 
armed. If we have any fear of God, if any love for our 
whole country, for man, for the suffering cause of Jesus 
at home and abroad, — we must welcome any and every 
occasion for devout fasting, humiliation, and supplica- 
tion. 

I do implore you all to cherish the deep solemnity due 
to a time like this. "The Lord hath Avatched upon the 
evil, and brought it upon us." God's wrath so far sur- 
passes all other calamities, that the very thought of it 
would agitate, alarm, frighten us, were we not blinded 
and stupefied by sin. This wrath has now begun to descend 
upon our guilty land. Jehovah is saying, " Now will I 
shortly pour out my fury upon thee, and accomplish my 
anger upon thee, and I will judge thee according to thy 
ways, and will recompense thee for all thy abominations. 
And my eye shall not spare, neither will I have pity. I 
will recompense thee according to thy ways, and the 
abominations in the midst of thee; and you shall know 
that I am the Lord. The time is come, the day draweth 
near. Destruction cometh, and they shall seek peace, 
and there shall be none. I will do unto them after their 
way, according to their deserts will I judge them, and 
they shall know that I am the Lord." 7 Brethren, dear 
brethren, God is serious in his present dealings with us; 
oh, let us be serious. Through our cities and villages, and 
in our own streets; a voice is heard, Availing out this 
warning, "Yet forty days and Kineveh shall be de- 



232 Richard Fuller's Sermons, 

stroyed." Let ns, like that doomed capital, clothe our- 
selves in sackcloth and ashes. "The wrath of man worketh 
never the righteousness of God." 

The wrath, clamor, bitterness, vindictiveness, crim- 
ination and recrimination, which have so often pro- 
faned our national fasts, would be shocking to every 
moral sentiment in an hour like this; they would be 
scarcely more insane and impious at the last judgment 
and before the great white throne. Whatever others do, 
let us abhor ourselves before God as a nation, and let us 
with one voice cry unto him and say, "0 Lord, in wrath 
remember mercy." 

Nor let us be satisfied with general confessions, which 
are almost always only an ingenious mode of deceiving 
and flattering ourselves in our own eyes. We should, 
lament the iniquities abounding in the land, but we can 
repent only of" our own sins. Let each of us enter into his 
own bosom, and explore his own heart and life. " I 
hearkened and heard but they spake not aright ; no man 
repented him of his wickedness, saying, What have I donef 
Let each enquire: " Lord is it I ? Lord is it I ?" " Let 
us turn every one from his evil way, and who can tell if 
God will turn and repent and turn away from his fierce 
anger, that we perish not ?" " Search me, God, and 
know my heart; try me, and know my thoughts; and see 
if there be any wicked way in meimd lead me in the way 
everlasting." 

Prepare to meet thy God, Israel. Let us prepare 
for this solemn interview, whether in the judg- 
ments now upon us, or in the judgment after 
death. After all, whatever may betide us, God's 
will must triumph. Be this our consolation in the 
darkest moment. What his inscrutable wisdom 
designs, I know not; whether to break up these once 
United States, and to make of them two great nations, 
who, forgetting this unnatural strife, cherishing only the 
hallowed memories of the past, shall live side by side in 
alliance and amity; or whether to reconstruct the Union, 
to corroborate its vigor by teaching us many severe lessons 
of mutual forbearance, of honest compliance with consti- 
tutional compacts, of reciprocal dependence, of political 



Mercy Remembered hi Wrath. 2 13 

wisdom and religions obligation; or whether io destroy 
us altogether, as he lias blotted out other guilty empires. 
But this one thing I know, that all shall work together 
for his glory and for the good of them that love and obey 
him. 

And I know more. I know that we are rapidly passing 
away, and shall tomorrow stand amidst the realities of 
that eternity, in the light of which all earthly things 
will shrink into insignificance, all mortal conflicts will 
appear only as the delirious frenzy of lunatics contending 
about straws. For we shall then see that the soul alone 
has real greatness, that salvation alone is worthy of our 
cares and toils and sacrifices. Let us save our souls. 
Let us secure the great salvation. Let us prepare to 
meet our God in death and at the dread tribunal. Jesus 
is the "hiding place from the wind, and the covert from 
the tempest." Sheltered beneath his cross, we are safe 
for time and eternity. 

AYherefore, beloved, seeing that ye look for such things, 
be diligent that ye may be found of Him in peace, with- 
out spot and blameless. "Come, my people, enter thou 
into thy chambers, and shut thy doors about thee, and 
hide thyself as it were for a little moment, until the in- 
dignation be overpast." Into these pavilions, these inner 
sanctuaries of almighty power, unerring wisdom, eternal 
faithfulness and love, let us enter. And let our prayers 
for a guilty land cause all these chambers to resound, 
till our cries go up into the ear and penetrate and melt 
the heart of that God who is waiting to be gracious. 

" Lord, the great and dreadful God, keeping the 
covenant and mercy to them that love him, and to them 
that keep his commandments; we have sinned, and have 
committed iniquity and have done wickedly and have re- 
belled even by departing from thy precepts and from thy 
judgments. Lord, righteousness belongeth unto thee, 
but unto us confusion of faces, as at this day; — to the 
men of Judah, and to the inhabitants of Jerusalem, and 
unto all Israel that are near and that are far off, because 
of their trespass that they have trespassed against thee. 
To the Lord our God belong mercies and forgiveness, 
though we have rebelled against him ; neither have we 



234 Richard Fuller s Sermons. 

obeyed the voice of the Lord our God, to walk in his 
laws which he set before us by his servants the prophets. 
Yea, all Israel have transgressed thy law, even by depart- 
ing that they might not obey thy voice. Therefore the 
curse is poured upon us. Lord, according to all thy 
righteousness, I beseech thee, let thy anger and thy fury 
be turned away from thy city Jerusalem, thy holy moun- 
tain ; because for our sins and for the iniquities of our 
fathers, Jerusalem and thy people are become a reproach 
to all that are about us. Now therefore, our God, hear 
the prayer of thy servant, and his supplications, and 
cause thy face to shine upon thy sanctuary that is desolate, 
for the Lord's sake. Lord, hear ; Lord, forgive; 
Lord, hearken and do ; defer not, for thy own sake, my 
God ; for thy city and thy people are called by thy name." 
" Lord, in wrath remember mercy." 




The Chris! inn Delivered from Fear of Death, 235 



Smuou fffiirtcrtttfi* 



THE CHRISTIAN DELIVERED 
FROM FEAR OF DEATH.* 

" FORASMUCH then as the children are partakers of flesh and blood, he 
als i himself likewise took part of the same; that through death he 
might destroy him that had the power of death, that is, the devil: And 
deliver them who, through fear of death, were all their lifetime subject 
to bondage.— Heb. ii: U, 15. 

U A WHETHER we be afflicted, it is for your consola- 
* * tion and salvation." It may seem hard that — • 
besides their studies, toils and sacrifices — pastors must be 
smitten by God for the sake of their flocks : but any sor- 
row should be welcome to us, when we remember what 
he endured who " loved the Church and gave himself for 
it." The Scriptures, indeed, represent this as a sublime 
privilege, that to us it is given thus to be partakers of 
Christ's afflictions — "Who now rejoice in my sufferings 
for you, and fill up that which is behind of the afflictions 
of Christ in my flesh for his bodv's sake, which is the 
Church." Nor can tongue tell nor thought conceive the 
sweetness of those consolations which are mercifully 
vouchsafed to ministers, while passing through this dis- 
cipline, by him "who comforteth us in all our tribulation, 
that we may be able to comfort them that are in any 
trouble, by the comfort wherewith we ourselves are com- 
forted of God." 

The passage selected for this morning comes to you 
from a chamber in which — with a triumph far transcend- 



* Preached, December 1, 1801, on the Sabbath after the death 
of a beloved daughter, and written out afterwards lor publication 
at the special request of many members of the Seventh Church. 



236 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

ing all I had ever witnessed or read or imagined, — death 
was swallowed up in victory. During the last four days 
of her illness, the physicians assured nie that my sainted 
child suffered the pangs of a hundred deaths; but her 
soul was filled with unutterable blessedness. While com- 
plying with the prescriptions of her medical attendants, 
she desired that no anodynes might be administered, lest 
they should affect her mind. " The cup that my Father 
hath given me," she said, "shall I not drink it? " My 
body suffers, but my soul is flooded with happiness." "I 
have no wish but to glorify God by my death." — 
" How ineffably precious is Jesus to me — how I love and 
adore him." After remarking that she had all her life 
been afraid to die, she repeated the words just read 
as our text, exclaiming, '■ Not a fear njw, not a doubt ; 
all is joy unspeakable and full of glory." 

My beloved brethren, wherever I may be, I am still 
thinking of you ; and I no sooner heard this last remark, 
than my mind reverted to you. I said, I will preach to 
them from those verses — I must seek to arm them with 
these defenses, these heavenly consolations against death. 

The Apostle is speaking of the children of God. " For- 
asmuch then, as the children," the same "children " men- 
tioned in the preceding verse. The Devil, who " hath the 
power of death," is careful not to alarm his victims ; he 
disguises from them the formidable character of death. 
Hence philosophers, falsely so called libertines, duellists, 
men of the world, and worldly professors, can, like guilty 
Jonah, sleep on, regardless of their danger. The god of 
this world blinds their minds, lulls them into a repose 
which is only the smoothness of the cataract before it 
glides over the precipice ; they die as the fool dieth. — 
The text refers to the children of God. Of them it de- 
clares that the tempter — by inspiring a dread of death — 
often impairs their joy, keeps them under a miserable 
bondage — literally, depresses them ; and, that the incar- 
nation and death of the Son of God ought to liberate 
them from this servile yoke, dispel their apprehensions, 
and cause them to rise to a triumphant superiority over 
all fear of death. Let us meditate upon a truth which 



TheChristian Delivered from Fear of Death. 237 

so deeply concerns each of us, and which is so full of 
consolation. 

I. Sitting, as I have sat for several days and. nights, 
looking death in the face, and seeing in that face only 
smiles, I asked myself, What then is it which renders this 
event so universally formidable ? And the first answer 
was, The impenetrable veil which shrouds the future, the 
darkness which to sense and reason, hangs so gloomily 
over all beyond the grave. Love keeps its vigils at the 
bedside of one dearer to you than life. At this post of 
observation, you watch the insidious, inexorable progress 
of the disease. The fatal moment at length arrives. — 
You embrace your child, so beloved and cherished. You 
exchange the tenderest adieus. Gradually an invisible 
curtain descends between you and the object of these 
warm and yearning affections. In a momenta separation 
takes place, most mysterious and awful ; there is a silence 
which no cries, no imploring appeals can break. Those 
lips which had just spoken to you in such endearing ac- 
cents are sealed. The hands you still hold, and whose 
last pressure told you so much, are relaxed. The eyes 
which a moment before had beamed upon you with such 
heavenly softness are quenched. And the question breaks 
in on i\\\d heart with the power and earnestness of eter- 
nity — Is this the termination of life? or is there another, 
an immortal life, upon which the soul has entered ? 

And there is no question which can so agitate the hu- 
man mind. Oh, this is no matter of cold abstract specu- 
lation. Every day it is pressing upon the inmost spirit 
of some mourner bending over the couch of death. Every 
day some Martha and Mary are shedding floods of tears 
for a brother, who had been to them friend, counsellor 
and protector. Every day some Joseph is mourning for 
his father with a lamentation so bitter that " the place is 
called Abel Mizraim ;" some Rachel is weeping for her 
children and refusing to be comforted; some David is 
exclaiming, "0 my son, my son, would God I had died 
for thee." Yes, each day, hour, minute, second, some 
human heart is cleft in twain; and pours its unavailing 
bursts of anguish, or sits in a silent agony more terrible 
than the most piercing shrieks and wailings. Now, need 

10 * 



238 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

I tell you that a heart thus ho wed down cannot he satis- 
fied with conjectures and peradventures. It needs solid, 
stable consolation; it requires a light from heaven to 
dissipate the obscurity of the future, a revelation from 
God to lift the veil and dispel all fear and misgiving. 

I do not undervalue the arguments for an indestructi- 
ble life which reason furnishes; and, as the subject is of 
such vast concern, I will indicate, in so many words, 
those which seem to me of most value. 

First, we carry within ourselves the instinctive con- 
sciousness of a principle distinct from and infinitely su- 
perior to the material body. When you use your tongue 
to utter, or your fingers to write your thoughts, you know- 
it is not the tongue nor the fingers which think ; they 
are only the instruments employed by the mind, the spir- 
itual faculty. We compare, reason, reflect, contrive, re- 
member, hope, love; but it is palpably absurd to sup- 
pose that these are acts of our physical organization. — 
JS T ow whether this spiritual principle shall live forever 
or be destroyed, depends entirely upon the will of God ; 
and God has written upon our very nature some intima- 
tions of its immortal existence. 

For he has impressed upon humanity, wherever it is 
diffused, a conviction of existence beyond the tomb. Ko 
nation has ever been discovered which did not cling to 
this faith. Whence this universal belief ? That which 
has been held as certain by all men, everywhere and at 
all times, assuredly seems to be a truth either inscribed 
on the structure of the soul, or transmitted from an orig- 
inal revelation communicated at our creation. 

Another fact. We are endowed by God with irrepress- 
ible aspirations and longings for a happiness which we 
knoAV can never be attained in this lite, tor a happiness 
which is eternal. Is not this yearning a prophecy ? The 
body has no appetites for which God has not provided ; 
is it possible that this hungering and thirsting of the 
soul is never to be gratified ? The future, like the past, 
\i- nothing to a brute, it lives only in the present. But 
man is a thinking being only as he forgets the present in 
t lie past and future. To him the present is comparatively 
little — the transcendant value of life — its happiness 
and dignity— is in memory and hope. 



The Christian Delivered from Fear of Death, 2:59 

Hence the very idea of annihilation is overwhelming to 
him. He instinctively revolts at the very thought that 
memory, hope, reason, love ever can be destroyed. And 
it is a most instructive — 1 bad almost said a conclusive 
fact, that this recoil from extinction, this instinct of end- 
less duration, this anticipation of immortal life, becomes 
more articulate and stronger, just as the soul becomes 
holy ; — that is, just as its views are clear, and its dictates 
and wishes in harmony with the will of God. 

I know that, look where we will around us,, the pros- 
pect is gloomy enough as to the perpetuation of life. The 
vegetable and animal creations are ever decaying and 
perishing. So, too, with human existence. "One gen- 
eration passeth away and another cometh." The dark- 
ness, corruption, oblivion of the tomb swallow up race 
alter race, and no trace of them remains. In all this, 
however, we see only "the dust returning to the dust 
from which it was taken." The Scriptures declare that 
"The spirit returns to God who gave it;" and to argue 
that, because material substances decay, therefore the 
soul must perish, is to overlook entirely the distinctions 
between matter and spirit. 

Observe carefully any merely material development, 
and you will find that it soon attains its completion and 
then ceases. This is true of all vegetable growth, of all 
animal life, even of that noblest organism, the human 
frame. But the more the soul expands, the more it un- 
folds boundless powers of growth and expansion. Nay, 
the very properties of matter require that its increase 
should be soon arrested. If a tree should continue to 
grow, it would cast its shade over the land and prevent 
the growth of other trees. But the more the soul is en- 
larged, the more invigorating and blessed are the influ- 
ences it exerts over other souls. Extend this thought 
into eternity, and you will feel something of the meaning 
of that expression, "the power of an endless life," the 
power of the soul to dilate its own divine faculties 
through eternity, and through eternity to diffuse happi- 
ness upon other souls. Ponder, too, another distinction 
between spirit and matter. The latter, when it decays, 
is not destroyed; it still exists, and passes into other, 



240 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

often into higher forms. In nature nothing- perishes, 
nothing is lost, every fragment is gathered up that there 
may be no waste. But if my mind, thought, reason, con- 
science, memory, hope, love of truth, of purity, of God, 
become extinct, there is utter and unutterable destruction. 
For these are peculiar to myself, and can never belong to 
any other being. 

We are sometimes told of man's insignificance. But a 
being who can know himself, and lament his inferiority 
to his own standard of intellectual and moral perfection, 
cannot be insignificant. He is great — greater than the 
earth, greater than the stars, greater than the sun, 
greater than all the material universe; for the earth, the 
stars, the sun, the material universe are all unconscious 
of their own existence, nor can they conceive of, and 
aspire after higher and more splendid creations. 

But man's guilt and depravity. Be it so. What then ? 
This very consciousness of guilt is an intimation— a very 
strong intimation of immortality, For, if there were no 
future life, no judgment, no retribution after death, con- 
science could not exert its tremendous power. The sense 
of sin is terrible, because Ave feel that the consequences 
of sin are not exhausted here, that its real punishment 
will be inflicted hereafter. 

Let me only add that the scenes often presented in the 
chambers of dying Christians furnish an evidence almost 
irresistible that the soul does not decay with the decay 
of the physical system. Those superhuman triumphs 
amidst convulsions of pain — those ineffable joys which 
transport the soul while disease and anguish shoot through 
every nerve and fibre of the material frame — those songs 
of exultation in the very moment when the body is dis- 
solving — it is almost impossible to witness such a specta- 
cle, without feeling that there is in man the germ of an 
imperishable existence, that he is destined by God for 
immortality. 

J might multiply reflections like these. I do not pre- 
tend, however, that these arguments, with the addition 
of others, would establish a certainty. Still, if nam is 
created for future and unwasting life, I would expect 
reason to give some intimation of this magnificent truth; 



The Christian Delivered from Fear of Death. 2-11 



and I think we have enough to awaken presumption, ex- 
pectation, a well founded hope. 

But, my brethren — when just parted by death from 
one most loving, lovely, and beloved — presumption, ex- 
pectation, hope will not do. " I hope there is something 
after death ;" — this was all that the wisest and best of 
the ancient philosophers could say. But 0, cruel conso- 
lation, excruciating conjecture, which soon remits the 
heart to the most agonizing doubts and apprehensions. 
No, no ; guesses, peradventures, probabilities will not do ; 
we need proof, assurance ; let me have these, let the veil 
be removed ; let me know certainly that the being so dear 
lias been translated to a sphere of immortal life; and I 
am satisfied, I dry my tears; death is disarmed of this 
terror, death is but the beginning of a higher, sublimer 
existence, death is swallowed up in victory. Give me 

this assurance, but who can give it to me? — 

Five hundred generations have passed into that shadowy 
land, but no messenger, no whisper has come back from 
the tomb. Worlds were little to barter for the certainty, 
but worlds cannot purchase it. I ask the earth, I conjure 
the skies, I weary the heights and torture the depths with 
my beseeching cries; — but earth and sky, heights and 
depths return only a cold, dead, chilling echo. Where, 
then, can assurance be obtained ? Blessed be (Jod, there 
is a teacher who perfectly ascertains every thing here. 
The Cross towers like a heacon between that dusky world 
and ours, irradiating each with celestial brightness. 
" By his death " Jesus delivers his children from all fear 
of falling back into nothing. He has " abolished death," 
(how energetically does the Apostle announce the very 
truth I am urging) "and has brought life an 1 immor- 
tality to light through the Gospel." The demonstration 
here is so simple that a child can comprehend it, and so 
irrefragable that I defy the acutest genius to detect a 
flaw or frame even a plausible objection. 

For, if anything is incontestable, then without contro- 
versy, the death and resurrection of the Redeemer for- 
ever establish the truth of his doctrine. The proofs of 
that death and resurrection I need not. here exhibit. If 
it were proper to convey such communications from this 



242 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 



place, I would make or.e remark, I would say that, in 
other days I was accustomed to sift evidence — to subject 
it to the severest cross examination ; that I have scruti- 
nized the testimony on this subject with a more critical 
jealousy for fear lest a religious education might have 
biased my mind ; and that no fact in history rests upon 
more "rocky strength of foundation" than the Saviour's 
death and resurrection. On this great event, you remem- 
ber, he staked the certainty of his doctrine. The Jews 
would not be convinced by his miracles, they demanded 
a sign. " Let him come down from the cross," they 
said, "and we will believe." He gives them more than 
they required. He enters the tomb, and emerges, " the 
resurrection and the life," on the third day. His doc- 
trine, then, is forever established. 

But, now, what is the Saviour's doctrine ? It is, as we 
have already seen, the assertion of life and immortality. 
AVe said, just now that upon our very nature there is the 
impress of a future existence; and it is a striking fact, 
that Eevelation takes for granted this irrepressible con- 
sciousness. Jesus never once enters into any argument, 
nor advances any proofs upon this subject, lie speaks 
to man as a being who carries within him a light which 
had only become dim, and needed but to be trimmed and 
refreshed. He appeals constantly and directly to a spir- 
itual principle in the human bosom; this he addresses 
clearly, solemnly, and with perfect confidence, knowing 
that his voice would find an instant response. 

Another remark. The soul's immortality is taught by 
Jesus, not in any detached passages ; it is a truth which 
underlies and pervades the whole of his religion. Much 
he promises to "the life which now is;" but it is "the 
life that is to come" which he constantly proposes, as 
the object of our devoutest aspirations. His disciples 
are not to fear them who can destroy only the body, but 
him Mho can cast soul and body into hell. They arc to 
labor, not for the meat which perisheth, but for that 
which endureth to everlasting life. They are not to lay 
up treasure on earth, but in heaven. They are not to 
expect rewards on earth, but in heaven. They are to 
welcome trials and sacrifices, that they may receive a 
kingdom prepared for them before the foundation of the 



The Christian Delivered from Fear of Death. 



world. In short, all terrestrial pomps and charms are 
to be despised, and persecution, poverty, pain, dungeons, 
swords, scaffolds, (ires, the most frightful martyrdoms 
are to be preferred to the pleasures of sin. And why all 

this? Why, because the soul is immortal, because the 
gain of the whole world would be no sort of equivalent 

for its loss. 

And, oh! the earnestness with which the Saviour 
pressed this grand doctrine. Man's ignorance of God 
drew from him his bitterest tears, causing him to utter 
that wailing lamentation, " 0, righteous Father, the 
world hath not known thee." But next to this dismal 
phenomenon, the spectacle which pierced his heart with 
the acutest anguish was man's neglect of his spiritual 
nature. He did not overlook the body ; he sympathized 
with its wants and miseries. He fed it, healed its infirm- 
ities, cured its diseases, raised it from the tomb. But 
it was the soul — its imperial capacities — its magnificent 
endowments — above all, its eternal life — an existence 
Avhich shall endure when Avorlds, stars, suns, shall have 
expired — it was this that absorbed his thoughts and 
kindled solicitudes indefatigable, inextinguishable: for 
this he pleaded with unutterable yearnings. His entire 
ministry — his sermons, his warnings, his entreaties, his 
tears — was a voice from heaven, proclaiming the immor- 
tality of the soul, and beseeching men to awake to a truth 
so solemn, glorious, consoling, rejoicing, inspiring. 

My friends, I cannot tell how this subject affects you. 
Even in Christians the cry of the soul is stifled by the 
clamors of the world and the passions. Here, to-day, in 
the sanctuary itself, your spiritual discernments are so 
dull and darkened, that this truth excites scarcely an 
emotion in your minds. But in the chamber where 
death has just removed one most dear to you : kneeling 
beside the bed and gazing upon that form which had so 
long been the object of your tenderest affections; looking 
into that pale, sweet face, and feeling that for one word 
from those lips you would give all which life has or hopes 
for; there, oh. there, this doctrine is nns] eakably precious. 
Close your eyes. Do not let your thoughts rest upon the 
casket, lovely as lliat is. 'The soul, the spirit — that 



244 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

which was and is the being you loved — has been taken 
from this valley of tears, and has entered upon its true 
life. The angels who rejoiced over the repentance of 
this child of God experience new delights at her emanci- 
pation. Could she speak, she would say, in the language 
of Jesus, "Why seek you the living among the dead?" 
" If you loved me you would rejoice because I go to my 
Father." Shall not this assurance sweeten the bitterness 
of separation ? Will you surrender yourself to convul- 
sions of grief, and shed floods of tears, because the im- 
prisoned spirit is set free and exults in everlasting life ? 
Was it only yourself you loved, and the happiness you 
enjoyed in her society ? If you truly loved her, could you 
mourn and Aveep, because she has ceased to see, as you 
see — through organs so limited in their vision — and now 
sees as she is seen by God ? because she no longer knows 
as you know — with a knowledge which is only a sort of 
ignorance — but knows even as she is known ? because 
she lives — not as we live — a few years of weakness, infir- 
mity, sorrow, sin — but as God lives — expatiating in spir- 
itual, celestial, immortal existence ? 

The first fearful trait about death is, the uncertainty 
as to the something, anything, after death; and you see 
how the Cross supplies such an antidote to these appre- 
hensions, that it may be truly said, "Jesus Christ hath 
abolished death and brought life and immortality to light 
through the Gospel." I wish here to pause for a moment;, 
and — as the matter is of infinite importance — to ask each 
of you with individual reference, whether you believe in 
this glorious doctrine? I know you will answer, To be sure 
I do, I never had a doubt of it. But if you have never 
known the misery of an earnest doubt, I am afraid you 
have never known the rapture of an earnest faith, as to 
this subject. There is no truth — not even the eternity 
of God — which, so nearly concerns us, none — if the mind 
can only be brought to dwell intently upon it — which 
can so overmaster our thoughts and effect such an entire 
change in all our feelings and estimates of things as this 
of our destiny to live forever. To rejoice in the full assur- 
ance of immortality, however, you must reflect; you 
must penetrate the folly of all those sophistries which 



The Christian Delivered from Fmr of Death. 24."> 



infidels can bring against it; you must take in the proofs 
which reason furnishes, and the demonstration which the 
Gospel supplies. "If a man die, shall he live again ?" 
Never, in all my life, have J ever known any sort of scep- 
ticism as to this question ; yet it seems to me I only be- 
lieved that I believed. Would that I could impart to 
you the happiness, the triumphant assurance, the trans- 
ports, with which I now rea ize its certainty and itsmag- 
nilicence. 

II. Thus far our argument has supposed that man is 
innocent, and it fortifies us only against the fear of anni- 
hilation; but there is another and more awful terror in 
leaving this world. Man is a sinner. AVe have seen that 
he carries within him an instinct of his spiritual nature, 
and that Jesus constantly takes this for granted. Now 
his consciousness of guilt is still more clear, and the Sa- 



viour always deals with him as a being Avhose conscience 
leaves no room for denial or evasion on thispoinc; he takes 
for granted man's inward sense of transgression and ac- 
countability after death for sin. This truth renders death 
formidable indeed, for the soul then passes into the pres- 
ence of its Judge, and receives that sentence which fixes 
its destiny amidst the changeless retributions of eternity. 
And, now, what [ say is, that by his death Jesus delivers 
his people forever and perfectly from all fear on this score. 
This is our second article. " Verily, verily, I say unto 
you, If a man keep my saying he shall never see death." 
"The sting of death is sin, and the strength of sin is the 
law, but thanks be unto God who giveth us the victory, 
through our Lord Jesus Christ." 

Men and brethren, for twenty-five years — ever since it 
pleased God to call me by his grace and to put me into 
the ministry— I have sought always and everywhere to 
preach Christ Jesus and him crucified. As a fact, as a 
doctrine, as the only foundation of hope, holiness, salva- 
tion, Christ has been to me "all and in all;" but never 
did my faith rest upon the atonement with such a perfect 
confidence, such a delightful recumbency as now rejoices 
my wnole soul. Sitting beside that departed saint, and 
hearing her often exclaim, " Xot a doubt, not a fear, all is 



246 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 



peace and joy and blessedness," T asked her, upon what 
she relied with such triumphant assurance? "I know, 
my dearest child," I said, "that 'many daughters have 
done virtuously, but you have excelled them all,' and 
members of the church have called and told me how they 
all loved you." She at once interrupted me. "Do not, 
my dear father, I beg you, utter one word about me. 
Speak only of Jesus, his blood and righteousness. I am 
a poor sinner saved by grace, who feels her un worthiness, 
and laments that, having so short a life, she did not de- 
vote it more entirely to such a Saviour." " How, then, 
is it that not a cloud, not a shadow is upon the brightness 
of your prospect?" " How ?" she replied, looking up into 
my face with surprise, " How ? did he not die for me? 
does not his blood cleanse from all sin ?" Here she was 
convulsed by one of those paroxysms of agony which 
nearly suffocated her, during which I heard her murmur- 
ing in broken accents, "Father, not my will, but thine." 
As soon as it had passed, she remarked, with a smile of 
angelic sweetness, "These are only the throes of the poor 
body; the spirit is in perfect peace. For your sakes I 
hope God will spare me these spasms, for I see they 
overcome you ; but for myself I scarcely feel them, such 
is the blessedness which fills my whole being till it runs 
over. I desire not a pang less than my Saviour sees good 
for me. He does all things well." And then, resuming 
her former theme, she said, "Washed in his blood, 
how can I doubt? Clothed in his spotless righteousnes, 
what can I fear? 'They have washed their robes and 
made them white in the blood of the Lamb.' " 

Our text ascribes the Christian's disenthrallment from 
fear to the "death of Jesus." Socinians tells us of his 
virtues, his miracles, his example ; and if they refer to 
his crucifixion, it is only as the highest exhibition of 
disinterested love, or as a proof of the truth of his 
doctrine — bad reasoning, by the way, for a man's sealing 
his creed with his blood has nothing to do with its truth. 
A martyr convinces us of his sincerity, but more men 
have died for error than for truth. The Scriptures 
attribute the whole of salvation to the blood, the death of 
Christ. This fundamental truth, that his death was a 



The Christian Delivered from Fear of Death, 247 

real satisfaction for sin. foolish.men have denounced as a 
dogma utterly irrational. But — while the atonement is 
a mystery— the very mystery which the Apostle declares, 

" Eye had not seen, nor car heard, neither had it entered 
into the heart of man," — yet, of this greal doctrine, as of 
immortality, I affirm, that reason and revelation speak 
with one voice. 

Without at all discussing the inspired account of the 
Fall, it is a matter of palpable observation and experi- 
ence, that man is a fallen being, that humanity is not in 
its normal and original purity, as it must have come 
from the hands of the Creator. Now — admitting this 
degeneracy — I can form no idea of the Deity which does 
nor inspire the hope that he will interpose to rescue us 
from ruin, and restore us to his favor and his image. 

More than that. Such an expectation is confirmed and 
raised almost to certainty by multiplied and most signifi- 
cant intimations, which I find in God's conduct towards 
our apostate world. For, if humanity be abandoned — 
if, in the divine contemplation, there had been no purpose 
of restoration, why has the race been continued? why 
are we the recipients of so many mercies? why so much 
pains — such care — so many heaven-appointed checks to 
restrain us from vice? why so many motives to impel us 
to virtue? why, amidst conscious guilt and ruin, has man 
always cherished such anticipations of an august de- 
liverer, that Jesus is styled "The Desire of all nations," 
and the whole creation is represented as "groaning 
together,''' travailing in the pangs of a magnificent regen- 
eration ? "When the old men wept as they remembered 
the gorgeousness of Solomon's temple, God assured them 
that the " glory of the latter house should be greater," 
because the Messiah would appear in its courts. And in 
man's very nature there is a gospel which, while he 
mourns his conscious degeneracy, inspires the noblest 
hopes of a salvation, which shall confer upon him a more 
abundant life than that received at creation — of a re- 
demption to crown him with a glory far transcending 
that of Paradis . 

And then see, too, how enlightened reason confesses 
and admires the harmony of this "great salvation" with 



248 Richard Fuller s Sermons. 

every attribute of the divide Being. In the satisfaction 
of Calvary, God's justice is satisfied; for, on the very 
theatre which had witnessed the dishonor of the law, 
that law is vindicated and magnified : God's holiness is 
satisfied; for Jesus does not save his people in sin, but 
from sin. In the Gospel scheme mercy is not a weakness 
— as it often is in human administrations, — it is the ex- 
ercise of amazing love and compassion through an ex- 
pedient which awfully asserts the inviolable majesty of 
Jehovah's moral government. In short, from the vi- 
carious sufferings of the Son of God a fresh revenue of 
honor accrues to every perfection of the Deity. They 
are all blended into a belt of light, a zodiac of softened 
splendors, which illuminates the earth with joy, irradiates 
heaven with new raptures, and pours fresh adorable 
effulgence upon the divine character. 

I was right, then, when I affirmed, not only that there 
is in the doctrine of the atonement nothing to shock my 
intellect, but that reason stands ready to welcome such 
a salvation as the only possible salvation for man — if in- 
deed it be revealed. And is it not revealed? Is it not 
the great revelation of the Gospel ? Is it not the Gospel, 
" the good news," " the glad tidings of great joy ?" Upon 
this point 1 need not accumulate proofs from the sacred 
Oracles. Thank God, I am addressinga Christian church. 
You not only know the certainty of this " faithful saying 
and worthy of all acceptation," but yen have gladly 
received it as the foundation of all your faith and hope. 
Let me only quote a single text, which I select because I 
am speaking of our deliverance from every apprehension 
as to the consequences of sin in eternit} 7 , and the passage 
occurs in precisely such an argument addressed by Paul 
to the Corinthians. "Moreover, brethren," these are 
his words, " I declare unto you the Gospel which I 
preached unto you, which also ye received, and wherein 
ye stand, by which also ye are saved." He is recapitu- 
lating, you observe, that Gospel which was the substance 
of all his preaching, the source of all piety to his 
hearers, and the only ground of salvation. Well, 
and what is that Gospel? "For I delivered unto 
you first of all, that which I also received, how that 



The Christian Delivered from Fan- of Death. 249 

Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures." 
This, then, is that Gospel. It is not thai Christ died as 
a martyr, but that he " died for our sins." There was 
an adequate object for that amazing phenomenon, the 

Lord of life and glory expiring upon the cross. "He 
bore our sins in his own body on the tree." "He who 
knew no sin was made a sin-offering for us." This is 
the Gospel ; this is the revelation which Paul "received" 
from God ; which is the burden of all the "Scriptures," 
— the adoring theme of patriarchs, prophets, apostles; 
and which, acting by inspiration, he delivered "first of 
all,— predicated as the great doctrine on which all evan- 
gelical truth rests, — as thi only foundation of salvation 
which can be laid — the foundation which God has laid — 
and, building upon which, no man, no matter how 
multiplied and aggravated his guilt, can ever be dis- 
appointed. 

Christ having died for our sins — having carried them 
with him up on the cross, down into the tomb, — and hav- 
ing "risen tor our justification," — his resurrection being 
the proclamation of heaven that a full satisfaction had 
been made, — the Holy Spirit assures us that those who 
believe in him cannot die in their sins. " There is, 
therefore, now no condemnation to them that are in Christ 
Jesus." Why not? Because in Christ, they died, in 
Christ they rose, in Christ they perfectly satisfied the 
demands of justice. After this, how can a Christian 
have a single doubt or fear? Ah, I know the tempter 
sometimes exerts all his malignity in that trying moment 
when the child of God is enfeebled by disease, when 
iiesli and heart are failing. Satan is branded by inspi- 
ration as " the accuser of the brethren." And never is he 
more subtle and malicious than wlien he employs what 
the Apostle designates as the "power of death ;" when 
he assails the mind during its conflict with the last en- 
emy, arraying before the memory all the sins of the past, 
and seeking to fill the conscience with alarms. But, let 
the Christian only remember " whom he has believed ;" 
let him turn from these suggestions of his own faith- 
lessness and vileness, and fix his eyes upon the Cross. 
One single look there will be enough ; all terror will in- 



0~ 



50 Richard Fullers Sermons. 



stantly vanish; heavenly peace, assurance, jov, will settle 
down upon his soul. 

m To his prophet Zachariah, God disclosed a vision which 
is full of consolation for us. "And he showed me 
Joshua, the high priest, standing before the angel of the 
Lord, and Satan standing at his right hand to resist 
(accuse) him. And die Lord said unto Satan, The 
Lord rebuke thee, Satan; even the Lord that hath 
chosen Jerusalem, rebuke thee. Is not this a brand 
plucked out of the fire? Now Joshua was clothed with 
filthy garments, and stood before the angel. And he 
answered, and spake unto those that stood before him, 
saying, Take away the filthy garments from him. And 
unto him he said, Behold I have caused thine iniquity 
to pass from thee, and I will clothe thee with change of 
raiment. And I said, Let them set a fair mitre upon 
his head. So they set a fair mitre upon his head, and 
clothed him with garments. And the angel of the Lord 
stood by." Here, even in the presence of the Angel of 
the covenant, the devil appears, and the High Priest 
himself is charged with defilement. Nor canine man 
of God repel the impeachment: for, in the light of God's 
countenance, all his righteousnesses are only as filthy 
apparel. But there was one who could silence the ac- 
cuser; and who at once dispels the alarm and confusion 
of his servant, by assuring him that he was a brand 
plucked by sovereign grace from the burning, that all 
his iniquity was taken away, that he should receive white 
garments and a crown of righteousness which the Lord, 
the righteous Judge, would give him. 

TIL The last mournful and fearful thing in death is 
the parting f all sublunary ties, the disruption of those 
cords which had so long and closely bound us to the 
earth. In this view death is a shipwreck of all our affec- 
tions, associations, possessions, prospects, hopes and joys. 
Everything near and dear to us is comprehended in 'that 
word Life. Death rends us away from existence, and 
seems to consign its victims to a darkness and sterility 
only the more dismal by their contrast with the bright- 
ness and redundancy of life in the world around us;— a 



The Christ in n Delivered from Fan' of Death. 251 



thought this, thai explains the peculiar sadness with 
which, amidst the dazzling beauties of Spring, the heart 
recalls the images of those whom it misses. Jn this as- 
pect death appears especially gloomy. In (his aspect the 
Gospel is especially rich in revelations which rob the 
grave of its terrors. But it is just in this view of death, 
and of the power of the Cross to raise the Christian above 
every fear and inspire the most glorious anticipations, 
that a preacher feels the utter inadequacy of all human 
thought and language. 

I have told you that, during the days and nights which 
it pleased God to allow ine to spend in that chamber so 
filled with heavenly manifestations, my thoughts turned 
to yon. And, last Sabbath, at this very hour, you were 
thinking of me, your prayers were ascending for me. My 
beloved brethren, those supplications were not in vain. — 
It was then, above all, that the soul of my child was rav- 
ished with illapses of celestial joy which seemed too much 
for her to bear, that the hearts of all who were present 
burned within them, and their eyes overflowed with tears 
of wonder, love and adoration. "This light affliction, 
which is but for a moment, worketh out for me a far 
more exceeding and eternal weight of glory." "My soul 
longeth, yea even fainteth for the courts of the Lord." — 
"I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not 
worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be re- 
vealed in me." "My whole being is flooded with unut- 
terable blessedness." "I rejoice with joy unspeakable 
and full of glory." These are some of the passages she 
repeated again and again ; but I can give you no idea of 
the tones of her voice trembling with delight, of the rap- 
ture which shone in her eyes, of the angelic light 
which suffused her whole countenance. All this was 
only a faint morning twilight breaking in through the 
decaying tenement of clay, — only a few feeble rays fall- 
ing upon a form racked with pain. What, then, must 
the noontide torrents of glory be to the emancipated 
spirit exulting in immortal vigor. 

We see one dear to us depart in peace, we are assured 
of the soul's higher, everduring life, and we know that 
sin has been expiated; but how irrepressible are our 



252 Richard Fuller'' s Sermons. 



yearnings to penetrate the unseen world and learn some- 
thins- of its economy? That thinking, rejoicing- bein°\ 
which was here but a moment since, where is it now ? what 
is it now ? She, so long and intimately present with me, 
so recently conversing with me, how does she now exist? 
with what society does she now mingle? what are her 
employments? how does she communicate with other 
spirits? what are her thoughts, feelings, enjoyments? — 
All that I so long to know, she is this instant ex- 
periencing. Would that some voice would solve the pro- 
blem; that some glimpse could dart upon my mind. 

Reclining on her Saviour's bosom, at " the very 
gate of heaven,'' — I use her own words, — not at the out- 
side of the gate where Jacob lay and angels could reach 
him only by a ladder, but inside among the angels, — my 
daughter again and again said to us, " Would that I had 
words to utter what I feel, but it is as unspeakable as it 
is full of glory." In short, the Holy Spirit tells us that 
"it doth not yet appear what we shall be." And, now, 
if this be so, of course 1 can only impair the surpassing- 
grandeur of the subject by attempting to say anything 
upon it. 

However, — as the text declares that we know enough 
of heaven to dissipate all gloomy images of death, — let 
me stammer out a thought or two; thoughts which are 
not mine, but which God has revealed to us by his Spirit. 
Let me falter out some of these ideas, and, then, let me 
ask how it is that Christians can ever speak oflosses, dis- 
ruptions, separations at death? how we can be so unbe- 
lieving as to afflict ourselves— so seltish as not to rejoice, 
when one Ave love has escaped from this vale of sorrow, 
and passed to the full fruition of such ''glory, honor and 
immortality." 

Regard death as a repose from all which makes life a 
sea of troubles, a ceaseless struggle with fears without and 
fightings within; from all that causes the heart to faint 
and tempts the spirit to rebel. "There the wicked cease 
from troubling, and the weary are at rest." "There re- 
maineth a rest for the people of God," — rest from sin, 
temptation, affliction, disappointment, fear, pain, sick- 
ness, all infirmities of the body, the mind, the spirit. 



Tlte Christian Delivered from Fear of Death. &53 

Regard death as an emancipation from all the gross 
appetites of the body,— from all those passions, those 
"fleshly lusts which war against the soul," — and as the 
full gratification of* all the boundless longings of the 

spirit after the "beautiesof holiness," after perfect trans- 
formation into the image of God. "We shall he like him, 
for we shall see him as he is." "As for me I shall be 
satisfied, when I awake with thy likeness." "And they 
shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more, neither 
shall the sun light on them, nor any heat. For the 
Lamb which is in the midst of the throne shall feed them, 
and shall lead them unto fountains of living water. And 

God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes;" all 

tears of sorrow, — but, Lamb of God, Redeemer of my 
soul, never shalt thou wipe away the tears of love and 
gratitude with which I will wash those feet once pierced 
with cruel nails for me. 

Consider death as the translation of the purified spirit 
from the darkness which now clouds its vision, into the 
clear azure radiance which bathes and ravishes the "saints 
in light.''' "Now we see through a glass darkly, but 
then face to face; now I know in part, but then shall I 
know even as also 1 am known." "And there shall be 
no night there ; and they need no candle, neither light of 
the sun ; for the Lord God giveth them light, and they 
shall reign forever and ever." " The sun shall be no more 
thy light by day. neither for brightness shall the moon 
give light unto thee; but the Lord shall be unto thee an 
everlasting light, and thy God thy glory. 

View death as the final and complete overthrow of all 
our spiritual enemies: — as the hour in which we shall be 
"more than conquerors through him that loved us," — in 
which we shall everlastingly triumph over the world, 
over those inward foes whose treacherous power con- 
spires against our salvation, over " the last enemy" him- 
self. This conflict finished, the Christian will exclaim, 
" Thanks be unto God who giveth us the victory through 
our Lord Jesus Christ;" the whole field will then beclear, 
nothing will be left which can ever molest or make him 
afraid; his soul will expatiate through eternity, at d find 
only immortal life and <rlorv. "After this I beheld, and 

11 



254 Richard Fuller $ Sermons. 

lo, a great multitude "which no man could number, of all 
nations and kindreds, and people, and tongues, stood be- 
fore the throne and before the Lamb, clothed with white 
robes, and palms in their hands. And one of the elders 
answered, saying unto me, What are these which are 
arrayed in white robes, and whence come they? And I 
said, Sir, thou knowest And he said to me. These are 
they which came out of great tribulation, and have 
washed their robes and made them white in the blood of 
the Lamb." "And they overcame by the blood of the 
Lamb." 

Contemplate death as the investiture of the child and 
heir of God with the full reversion of glory from which 
he had been so long debarred in this house of his bondage. 
To convey some idea of this glory, inspiration has heaped 
up and exhausted all glowing and dazzling imagery. — 
We are told of a city whose streets are gold ; — of rivers 
of water pure as crystal : — of the walls of the city re- 
splendent with the mingled effulgence of diamonds, ame- 
thysts, sapphires, every radiant jewel, with the illumin- 
ation of all gems ;— of a building so magnificent that 
God alone could be its architect, rearing and garnishing 
it with all the exuberance of celestial skill and affluence ; 
— of regal sceptres, diadems, thrones; — of a glory which 
shall cause cherubim and seraphim forever to gaze upon 
the saints and to ••admire in them M the matchless beau- 
ties of the Redeemer himself; — of a glory, an exceeding 
glory, a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory ; 
— of the mediatorial glory of the Son of God in whose 
victorious honors all the ransomed shall share, being glo- 
rified together with him, " sitting with him in his throne 
even as he sits in his Father's throne." 

We speak oi' the bitter separations caused by death ; 
and to the living they are bitter, heart rending. But 
think of the society into which the soul is then intro- 
duced. Here, how unsatisfying are all our friendships ; 
how impossible, even in the dearest associations, to find 
perfect congeniality and sympathy; how foolish to apply 
the term permanent to unions so easily impaired, and 
which, however sincere, must to-morrow be dissolved. 
In heaven we shall experience all the delights of the 



The Christian Delivered front Fear of Death. 



purest love, of the mosl tender intimacies, of the divin 
communications, of harmonies which Jesus declares shalJ 
be as ineffable and eternal as those between him and his 

Father. " Ye are come unto Mount Xion, and unto the 
city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to an 
innumerable company of angels, to the general assembly 
and church of the first born, which are written in heaven, 
and to the spirits of the justified made perfect," 

I had just repeated this glowing passage to my dying 

child, when, lifting her eyes to heaven, she at once said, 
" Yes, and oh, to him, to him, to Jesus." Take in that 
thought. " Father, J will that they also whom thou 
hast given me, be with me where 1 am;" death accom- 
plishes this prayer, death wafts me to the arms of my 
Redeemer. Who can conceive the rapture of that meet- 
ing — the eternity of blessedness concentrated in that 
first embrace ? There he is ! that Jesus in whom I 
believed; in whom — when I saw him not — I rejoiced with 
joy unspeakable and full of glory. My beloved is now 
mine, and I am his forever; nor can height, nor depth, 
not length, nor breadth ever again separate me from this 
" fairest among ten thousand, and altogether lovely," — 
ever again interrupt the seraphic ardors which absorb 
my soul. 

Nor only this outward and ravishing beauty of the 
divine "Mediator of the new covenant." Death bears 
the purified spirit " to God ;" reveals the glories of the 
Godhead spiritually, directly, clearly. This is the 
beatific vision — the soul's highest delight, its perfection 
in knowledge, sanctity, love, bliss. " Blessed are the 
pure in heart, for they shall see God." " Therefore are 
they before the throne of God, and serve him day and 
night in his temple, and he that sitteth on the throne 
shall dwell among them." 

But I shall never have done; and after having said all, 
I would feel that I had said nothing — that L had only 
faltered out some imbecilities and incoherences. How- 
ever, these incoherencies and imbecilities are not rhapso- 
dies, they are — to employ the Apostle's idea — the inartic- 
ulate lispings of achild who catches some glimpses of the 
excellent glory vouchsafed by the Holy Spirit, but can 



256 Richard Fuller s Sermons, 

neither comprehend, nor utter what he feels. And, now 
enter if you can — enter as well as you can — into these 
thoughts, unite them, give full plumage to your faith, let 
imagination transport you to those abodes of purity, love, 
and blessedness. After this, comeback to earth, and say 
to yourself, — My friend, my father, my mother, my wife, 
my child has passed from a world of sorrow, and is now 
in full possession of all this felicity, comprehends all this 
felicity, experiences all these joys, raptures, ecstasies; 
and will be entranced with new, ever increasing joys, 
raptures, ecstacies, while the ages of eternity roll on. 

For my part, I am overwhelmed by the reflection', that 
for man, for sinners, such things have been prepared by 
God. If a single shadow could dim the triumphant ex- 
ultation of my soul, it would be a doubt whether such a 
destiny can indeed be ours. But eternal truth dissipates 
all doubt. God's word dispels every fear and gives an as- 
surance as immovable as his throne. On every page 
of this volume I find the certainty of these things 
forever settled. Above all, when I fix my eyes upon the 
Cross, I glory in a faith which "is the substance" — the 
unequivocal evidence — of these unseen realities. " He 
that spared not his own Son. but delivered him up for us 
all, how shall he not with him also freely give us all 
things ? What treasures can God's wealth possess, God's 
love bestow, which are too rich after such a donation? 
' If children, then heirs, heirs of God and joint heirs 
with Christ." Yes, "all things are ours, whether life, or 
death, things present, or things to come, all are ours;" 
and ours by no foreign conveyance, no doubtful claim, 
but indefeasibly, by the most amazing title, by our new 
birthright; ours because we are the children and heirs 
of God. 

And now what shall I say to these things? My soul, 
if these truths are unmeaning sounds to thee, if they do 
not inspire the noblest gratitude and joy, the fault is 
thine own; thou art " loading thyself with thick clay," 
thou art debasing thyself in the pursuit of "lying vani- 
ties," and forgetting a heritage which turns the whole 
earth into contempt. After this, shall death be formid- 
able to me ? "Who does not long for that city, out of 



The Christian Delivered from Fear of Dea(h. 257 

which do friend departs, into which no enemy enters?* 
And when one I love has been mercifully removed from 
this scene of tribulation to those mansions of glory, can 
I wish to bring her back again? We speak of death as 
a gloomy valley — ah, radiant gloom, brightened by her 
Saviour's presence, through which angels bore her re- 
joicing spirit up to the bosom of her God. We mourn 
the loss she lias suffered in death; — inestimable loss by 
which she has gained "an inheritance among the saints in 
light." We represent death as a shipwreck; — blessed 
shipwreck, which has rescued her from all the storms, 
surges, fears, sufferings of a weary voyage, and stranded 
her sonl upon "an inheritance, incorruptible, undefiled, 
and that fadeth not away." 

But it is time to finish. My friends, God declares 
that when he afflicts a pastor, it is "for your consolation 
and salvation.*' Upon some of yon, all my preaching 
from this desk and from house to house, all my exhorta- 
tions and tears have been fruitless; shall my repeated 
sorrows also be in vain ? Is it not high time to awake 
out of sleep and come to Christ, that he may give you 
life ? Twice, and in quick succession, have my afflictions 
appealed to the young in this congregation, and admon- 
ished them that death envies those who seem to bid 
fairest for many years. I implore the young not to 
despise these touching, piercing calls from eternity, but 
to cast themselves upon the Saviour and receive the 
mercy he offers. Some of you are advanced in life ; is it 
not unutterable infa' nation to put away the thought of 
death, and, while "'gray hairs are here and there upon 
you,' still to neglect so great salvation? All of you, all 
of you, before it shall be forever too late, be warned, be 
wise. This immortality is yours; will you make it an 
immortality of darkness and despair? To you, all the 
exceeding riches of Christ's atonement, all the glory and 
blessedness of heaven are freely proffered ; will you reject 
them, and plant thorns in your dying pillow, and pre- 
cipitate yourselves into abysses of everlasting misery ? 



*" Quis non desideret illam civitatem, undc amicus non exit, 
quo iuiuiicus nou intrat'r" — Augustine. 



258 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

But I have no heart to-day for sucli gloomy thoughts. 
Christians, my dearly beloved brethren, I turn to you. 
Would that I could make you feel this subject as I do; 
after all, however, if you are Christians, the truths you 
have heard are to you the realities of faith. And, now, 
is it not deplorable that you still regard death as most of 
you do? that — while in the New Testament death is 
constantly represented as a consummation "far better" 
than life; while the first Christians had "a desire to 
depart and be with Christ ;" while they were "ever look- 
ing for, and hasting to, the coming of the Son of God ;" 
while they habitually viewed the body as only " the 
tent " * in which the soul tarries a few days, and rejoiced 
in the certainty that as soon as the tabernacle should be 
taken down the soul would enter into "a building of 
God, a house notmad.e with hands, eternal in theheavens;" 
while they groaned, earnestly desiring to exchange this 
temporary abode for celestial mansions, for royal garments 
in the skies; while they longed that " mortality should 
be swallowed up in life " — the mortal life be merged in 

the immortal; is it not lamentable, that, while 

these aspirations glowed in their bosoms, and these pros- 
pects filled them with rapture, we feel none of the sub- 
lime attractions of the tomb, the grave appears to us 
thronged with dreadful aspects, we shrink from death as 
the direst calamity, anticipate it as a sad necessity, com- 
pared with which the weariest and most wretched earthly 
life is a sort of paradise. How is it, that our theology, 
our sermons, our prayers, our very hymns are all wrong as 
to a matter of such infinite importance ? 

Alas, the reason is too manifest. We have no realiz- 
ing sense of our immortality. We plunge into the 
world, and are so absorbed by its cares and projects, that 
eternal life is to us only an empty idea. We do not med- 
itate upon the Cross and its soul subliming revelations, 
and hence do not glory in it, nor experience its power to 
lift us above all fear of condemnation. We drive hard 
after earthly pleasures, riches, honors, devote no time to 
heavenly contemplations, and thus debase our spiritual 



*II Corinthians v: 1—5. 



The Christian Delivered from Fear of Death. 259 



capacities, and averl our eyes from the pleasures, riches, 
honors reserved for ns beyond the skies. 

I beseech you, J adjure you, lei not the afflictions of a 
pastor who loves you with his whole heart he lost upon 
you. If you frustrate the gracious purpose of God 
towards you in these strokes, under which my heart 
bleeds, he may send others upon me, and " break me 
with breach upon breach." Have pity upon me, 0, my 
friends, and spare me, "lest I should have sorrow upon 
sorrow." But recollect, if your pastor's afflictions will 
not do, God may turn his hand upon you, and chasten 
you in his sore displeasure, and heap desolation upon 
your hearths. 

At all events, sickness, sorrow, death must one day 
enter your habitations. Prepare to meet them. Ponder 
the truths to which you have listened, that you may be 
armed for the trying hour. I bow my knees to the 
Father of mercy, that your dear children may be con- 
tinued to you ; but 0, give yourselves no rest, give God 
no rest, day nor night, until they be all gathered to 
Jesus; — that so, if they should be taken, you may know 
the unspeakable solace which sweetens my otherwise 
overwhelming bereavements, and without which grief 
would bury itself in the depths of my heart and consume 
all my life. 

I feel that there has been much which is personal in 

this discourse, but I know you will bear it with indul- 
gence. The thoughts and emotions which, while I sat 
in that glorified chamber, exalted my soul to heaven in 
the consciousness of new and ravishing manifestations of 
the Redeemer "in me," — and which have vainly strug- 
gled for utterance here to-day, may appear to you too 
hallowed for such a public communication. They at 
first seemed to me as revelations which, like Mary, 1 
ought to " keep and ponder in my own heart." But the 
more I have mused on them, the more has the tire 
burned, and the more have I been compelled to speak 
with my tongue. "What I shew you in secret." says 
Jesus, "that speak ye in the light; what ye hear in the 
ear, that preach ye on the house tops." And, now, why 
should I not open to you all my heart, and tell you, that 



260 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

the last Thursday was the only real thanksgiving day I 
ever passed in my life. It was, you remember, the day 
appointed for the public acknowledgment of mercies 
received from God. Its early dawn found me beside the 
couch upon which lay, in all the surpassing loveliness of 
death, that form so long and tenderly cherished. There 
I Sat "in bitterness for my first-born," but serene with 
heavenly consolations — feeling that heaven was only an 
apartment of my own house, in which she was waiting 
for me; and there the tempter dared to intrude, and to 
profane even the sanctity of that shrine with his loath- 
some suggestions. Yes, he whispered, this is thanksgiv- 
ing day ; and you at least ought to observe it with devout 
gratitude ; for the God you worship has loaded you with 
benefits. Without any fault of yours, nay in spite of 
your earnest efforts, the country you love is rent by civil 
war. Your dear native State has been invaded. The 
place of your birth, the scenes of your childhood and 
youth, are laid waste. Your earliest friends, all who 
have cherished you and been endeared to you from your 
infancy, are driven as exiles from their old ancestral 
homes, and the temple in which you first preached Jesus 
is hung in sackcloth. You, too, are reduced to compar- 
ative poverty; and, in a few brief months, blow after 
blow has beat relentlessly upon your heart, and torn 
from you those in whom your life was bound up. You, 
at least, ought to adore the tender mercies of your God 

to-day. He has been very good to you. With such 

infernal thoughts was my soul insulted by the arch 
enemy of God and man ; but oh ! the peace of God 
which passeth all understanding, the gratitude and joy 
which overflowed in gushing tears, as I turned away, and 
exclaimed, " Bless the Lord, my soul, and all that is 
within me bless his holy name." And all day long that 
psalm made melody in my heart ; and " in the night that 
song Avas with me, and my prayer unto the God of my 
life." Yes, I then knew all that David could have ex- 
perienced, when he said, " Because thy loving kindness 
is better than life, my lips shall praise thee. Thus will 
I bless thee while I live; I will lift up my hands in thy 
name. My soul shall be satisfied as with marrow and 
fatness, and my mouth shall praise thee with joyful lips, 



The Christian Delivered from Fear of Deafh. 201 

when I remember thee upon my bed, and think on thee 
in the night watches." 

Be prepared, my brethren, for the hour when your 
homes shall become houses of mourning; be prepared to 
meet death yourselves. "Be ye also ready, for in such 
an hour as ye think not the Son of Man cometh." Study 
carefully the text upon which I have attempted to preach 
to you, replenish your minds with its exhaustless conso- 
lations, and supplicate the aids of the Spirit whose office 
it is to " take of the things of Christ and shew them 
unto us." Life and immortality, — take in all the glory 
of these words. The mansions to which Jesus has gone, 
to which those so dear to you have passed, and the at- 
tractions of which you now feel, — let those mansions be 
kept steadily in view. Above all, ascend Mount Calvary, 
and make its summit the Pisgah of your souls. Live 
near the Cross, in contrite confession of sin, in simple 
childlike faith, in adoring gratitude, in reverential sym- 
pathy with that amazing mystery of love, that altar and 
that sacrifice. 

Ah ! I shall soon be ("lying, 

Time swiftly glides away ; 
But on my Lord relying, 

1 hail the happy day. 

The day when I must enter 

Upon a world unknown, 
My helpless soul I venture 

On Jesus Christ alone. 

lie once, a spotless victim 

Upon Mount Calvary bled, 
Jehovah did afflict him, 

And bruise him in my stead. 

Hence, all my hope arises, 

Unworthy as I am, 
My soul most surely prizes 

The sin-atoning Lamb. 

To him by grace united, 

I joy in him alone, 
And now, by faith delighted, 

Behold him on his throne. 
11 * 



262 



Richard Fuller's Sermons. 



There he is interceding 
For all who on him rest, 

The grace from him proceeding 
SJiall waft me to his breast. 

Then, with the saints in glory, 
The grateful song I'll raise, 

And chant my blissful story, 
In high seraphic lays. 

Free grace, redeeming merit, 
And sanctifying love, 

Of Father, Son and Spirit, 
Shall charm the courts above. 




Prosperity and Adversity. 263 



Sermon jFourtccutft- 



PROSPERITY and ADVERSITY. 

ik I spake unto thee in thy prosperity, but thou saidst, I will not hear. 
This hath been thy manner from thy youth, that thou obeyedst not my 
voice."— Jeremiah xxii: 21. 

"When he slew them then they sought him ; and they returned and en- 
quired eariy after God ; and they remembered that God was their rock 
and the High God their Redeemer. Nevertheless they did flatter him 
with their mouth, and they lied unto him with their tongues-" — Psalm 
xxviii : 34, 35, 33. 

IF God is ever irresistible to an ingenuous heart, it is 
when he suspends his awful authority, condescends to 
reason with guilty man, and to complain of his ingrati- 
tude and obduracy. On more than one occasion he thus 
addresses us, and always in language exceedingly 
pathetic. 

''Hear ye now what the Lord saith. Arise, contend 
before the mountains, and let the hills hear thy voice. 
Hear ye, mountains, the Lord's controversy, and ye 
strong foundations of the earth; for the Lord hath a 
controversy with his people, and he will plead with Is- 
rael/*' At a proclamation like this, at the thought of 
such a cause, such an audience, such an adversary, the 
mind becomes agitated, the conscience frightened; al- 
ready the earth seems to heave, the ocean to toss its angry 
surges, the mountains to burn with fire, the stars in their 
courses to marshal their glittering hosts, and the sun to 
collect his beams into a focal blaze, that they may fight 
against us. And we exclaim, "Will he plead against me 
with his great power ? he is not a man as I am that I 
should answer, and we should come together in judgment. 
Though I were righteous, yet would I not answer, but I 
would make supplication to my judge." "Let not God 



284 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

speak unto us lest we die." But calm your fears. It is 
not as an enemy, but as a friend wounded by our un- 
kindness, that God invites us to this interview. He ap- 
pears, not to overwhelm us with his juslice, but in love 
and tenderness he says, 4, my people what have 1 done 
unto thee? and wherein have I wearied thee? testify 
against me." So. in another affecting appeal to all nature, 
animate and inanimate, it is not an insulted sovereign, 
but a wronged and injured Father who speaks. "Hear, 

heavens, and give ear, earth, for the Lord hath spoken. 

1 have nourished and brought up children and they 
have rebelled agiinst me. The ox knoweth his owner, 
and the ass his master's crib ; but Israel doth not know, 
my people doth not consider." 

In each of the passages just announced, as our text, 
God touchingly expostulates with us as to our conduct 
to him. \\\ the former he complains, that when he blesses 
and prospers us we repel his counsels. In the iatter he 
upbraids ns with the perlidiousnessof vows and reforma- 
tions which only mock him when he chastens us. I ask 
your attention to truths so calculated to humble us in 
penitential sorrow, and, at the same time, to inspire grat- 
itude and love towards him who doth not willingly 
afflict the children of men, but in all his dealings seeks 
our ''profit that we may be partakers of his holiness." 

I. When God would give the prophet Ezekiel an em- 
blem of his providence, he showed him a "wheel within 
a wheel, and the spirit of the living creatures in the 
wheels;"' — thus declaring that, while all events are or- 
dered by his direct interposition, much must be inscru- 
table; and that his purposes move on by revolutions. 
This applies not only to his economy in those great 
"events which shape the growing stature of the world," 
but to the history of families and individuals; for their 
fortunes, like the spokes of a wheel, are ever alternating 
— now culminating, now subsiding to the ground. And 
we begin by glancing at prosperity and its dangers. 

"In thy prosperity ;" — nor is thereone in this assembly 
to whom this language may not be addressed. There is 
not one of you all who has not received a thousand bless- 



Prosperity end Adversity, 265 



iuo-s from the hand of God. Ele breathed into your 
nostrils the >reath of life, and from the cradle to this 
hour he has nourished and brought you up. K or you 
ho formed the earth, garnishing it with beauty; and tor 
you he spread the heavens, kindling in them the sun 
and moon and stars. The curious mechanism oi your 
body, with its exquisite contrivances all so beneficently 
framed to communicate sensations of pleasure ; the heart 
with all its flooding tides of love and hope and joy ; the 
mind with its mysterious world of thoughts, fancies, - 
imaginations; these are his gifts, the tokens of his care. 
Then, too, his ever wakeful parental kindness hath been 
about your path, and about your bed by day and by 
night " Forsaken by him you would have been over- 
whelmed in hopeless misery; nay, you would long since 
have sunk into the depths of eternal perdition ; but 
goodness and mercy have followed you all the days ot 
your life. And "in thy prosperity,"— when health 
bounded along your veins and mantled in your cheeks,— 
when your soul rioted in cheerfulness,— when your plans 
and hopes had been crowned with success,— when your 
home was the abode of happiness, and morning and 
evening your board and your hearth laughed with the 
presence of all you loved; -no sorrow, no sickness, no 
death, no bitter missing;— "in thy prosperity," when all 
was sunshine and gladness, and it seemed, not that you 
would "die in your nest," but that you would live in 
your nest forever ;— then, "in thy prosperity, I spake 
unto thee." 

Whether we be in prosperity or adversity, God is ever 
speaking to us, Jesus still stands at the door and knocks. 
Nor does he only knock, he speaks. And now, what 
does God say to us in our prosperity? what are the les- 
sons he seeks to impart by his providence, his word, his 
Holy Spirit ? Listen, I am going to tell you. 

And first, in the day of prosperity God's Love speaks 
to us ; 'speaks to us of love and gratitude. By goodness 
and mercy the most affectionate of fathers appeals to our 
hearts, seeking to reach and melt and win them. He 
says, "My son, give me thy heart." He whispers, " V\ ith 
loving kindness' have I drawn thee." 



266 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

The apostle urges with great earnestness a remonstrance 
of most awful yet touching import. He sa) r s, "ThinJccst 
thou this, Oman, that thou shalt escape the judgment of 
God ? not knowing that the goodness of God leadeth thee 
to repentance f Men of this world, absorbed in the cares 
and calculations of business, can you be careless of your 
immortal interests ? Can you forget the sentence which 
rests upon you for sin, and that except you repent you 
must perish ? Votaries of ambition, mad upon your idols, 
intoxicated by a delirious fury after the honors of this 
earth, can you despise the honor which God gives? can 
you brave the shame and everlasting contempt to which 
you must awake, except you repent ? Sons and daughters 
of frivolity and fashion, can you dance the giddy round 
of folly, and banish the thought that the pleasures of 
sin are but for a season ; that for all these things God 
will bring you into judgment, and that then these de- 
lights will augment the anguish of eternity, except you 
repent? 

Yes, though judgment linger, it will come. All must 
repent or perish ; and by his mercies God seeks to bring 
us to repentance. He has other means which he might 
employ, but they are his "strange work;' 5 he prefers to 
recall us to himself by goodness. Hence, although no 
thought can conceive the hatred with which he regards 
the least sin, he follows with mercies those who hourly 
insult him with their crimes; causing his sun to shine 
on the evil as on the good, sending his rain upon the just 
and the unjust. Though his word and our very nature 
teach us how abominable ingratitude must be in his eyes, 
he yet multiplies blessings upon those who requite all 
with contempt. Not by commands addressed to our 
fears, but by a thousand marks of affectionate bounty, he 
seeks to form a friendship with us. And as Ave love and 
honor our parents because they are the authors of our life 
and on account of their devoted care of us through all 
the helplessness of childhood, — so he would awake in our 
souls sentiments of duty, of filial, reverential affection 
toward him as our Father in heaven. 

In the day of prosperity God's wisdom speaks to us; 
speaks of heavenly wisdom; counsels us to improve the 



Prosperity and Adversity* - r >^ 



blessings \ve enjoy, thai our wealth may secure the true 
riches, our prosperity may ensure everlasting rewards. — 
Not by hare authority, but by favors which "are new 
every morning," our heavenly Father seeks to soften and 
subdue our hearts, that thus to temporal he may add spir- 
itual blessings. He wishes to win our gratitude, that we 
may devote ourselves cordially and nobly to his service; 
that we may not only love him but be like him in diffus- 
ing happiness around us. He says, " Freely ye have re- 
ceived, freely give." God is no churl, no foe to any ra- 
tional pleasure ; he gives all things richly to enjoy; gives 
not only bread to satisfy our hunger, but fruits with their 
delicious juices, and flowers arrayed in every beautiful 
hue and exhaling every fragrant perfume. He scatters 
wide, with an almost lavish hand, provisions not only for 
our wants, but for our tastes and sensibilities. And he 
says, " In the day of prosperity be joyful." He would 
have all creation bid you rejoice. The sun, the trooping 
stars, the trees and shrubs in your gardens, the waving 
treasures of your fields, the abundance of your storehouses, 
the rich returns of commerce, the precious metals from 
under the earth, the sparkling stream, hill and valley 
and variegated landscape, the winds, the waves, all crea- 
tion — he would have all repeat that exhortation, "Be joy- 
ful." But it ought to be joy in the Lord, — the joy of a 
grateful heart which daily exclaims, '• What shall I ren- 
der unto the Lord for all his benefits toward me? I will 
take the cup of salvation and call upon the name of the 
Lord." Lord, truly I am thy servant, bound to thee 
by 'd thousand mercies, and bound to thee forever. 

I will only add, that in our prosperity the faithfulness 
of God speaks to us, and warns us of the dangers to which 
we are exposed. Alas that it should be so, but so it is, 
that the more we are blessed, the more are we prone to 
forget God, to forsake the fountain of living waters, and 
to hew out for ourselves cisterns, broken cisterns. This 
is a truth which all must admit ; and can there be a more 
deplorable proof of our depravity? " I a;u come to talk 
with you," said Mr. Cecil to one of his parishioners, " 1 am 
alarmed for you since I have heard of your affairs.' 3 — 
" Alarmed !" answered the man in surprise, " why, sir, I 



268 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

never was so prosperous in my life." "That is what I 
have heard," replied the pastor, "and it is that which 
makes me uneasy about you." It was not a man strug- 
gling with adversity, but a man in the palmy flood-tide 
of success, the silence of whose chamber was smitten with 
those words, " Thou fool, this night thy soul shall be re- 
quired of thee, then whose shall those things be which 
thou hast provided ?" Nor can a devout man look any- 
where in the world or the church, without trembling for 
those around whose son Is prosperity is spreading its fatal 
snares, its unsearchable seductions. 

" In thy prosperity I spake unto thee;" and what is 
the treatment of which God complains ? It is that all his 
entreaties and admonitions are repelled. " In thy pros- 
perity I spake unto thee, but thou saidst, I will not hear 
thee." This is the charge, and its justice is only too read- 
ily established by your own daily observation. 

For of all those whose sincere conversion to Jesus you 
have, ever known, how many have traced their con version 
to prosperity ? Thousands are now in the church, and a 
cloud of unseen witnesses compasses us about, each of 
whom exclaims, " It is good for me that I have been af- 
flicted, that I might learn thy statutes;" did you ever 
know one who, reviewing the way in which the Lord 
called him by his grace, could say, It is good for me that 
I have never known affliction and sorrow ? You see con- 
stantly the noblest examples of piety among those who 
are poor and obscure in society; how many of these 
did you ever find equally devoted, when they had risen to 
wealth and honor? I do not deny that such miracles 
are sometimes wrought, but are they not the rarest of 
miracles ? Does not Jeshuran kick as soon as he waxes 
fat? Does the poor widow continue to cast in all she 
hath, when she suddenly becomes heir to a fortune ? In 
the circle of your acquaintance can you name twenty, can 
you name ten, five — do you know two who, when thus 
elevated, have not furnished sad commentaries on that 
prayer, " Give me not riches, lest I be full and deny thee, 
and say, Who is the Lord ?" To the church at Smyrna 
Jesus said, "I know thy works and tribulation and pov- 
erty; thou art rich;" but the Laodiceans, who were "rich 



Prosperity and Adversity. 269 

and increased in goods," be found to be "poor and blind 
and naked." Look around yon in this city. What is the 
preaching, what the church which the rich and prosper- 
ous select ? What sort of religion do they prefer ? What 
is the temper with which they listen to the humbling, 
crucifying truths of the Bible? And among those thus 
seeking in the house of God an incense more flattering to 
their vanity than that which is ottered in their own sump- 
tuous mansions, are some who were once zealous, self-im- 
molating Christians; some, alas, to© many, who would 
have triumphed over persecution, who would have braved 
dungeon and scaffolds for the truth, but whose faith 
could not withstand prosperity, who have fallen pitiful 
victims to the temptations of pride, fashion, ostentation 
and luxury. 

The language cf our text is very emphatic: "Thou 
saidst, I will not hear thee." The man who had bought 
only "a piece of ground," and he who had " bought live 
yoke of oxen," and he who had "married a wife," — these 
all quieted their consciences by framing excuses; but in 
the heyday of prosperity no apology is vouchsafed to 
God, he is at once instantly and insolently repelled. In- 
spiration employs every form of metaphor to convey some 
conception of the potency of God's voice. "The voice of 
the Lord is powerful, the voice of the Lord is full of ma- 
jesty, the voice of the Lord breaketh the cedars of Leb- 
anon, it maketh Sirion to skip like a young unicorn, it 
divideth the flames of fire, it shaketh the wilderness, it 
maketh the forests bare." A single word from God cre- 
ated all things, and can annihilate all things in a mo- 
ment. " By it the heavens and all their hosts were made." 
"He spake and it was done, he commanded and it stood 
fast." There is in the whole universe but one being who 
spurns that voice ; it is man, and he spurns it most con- 
temptuously when God's bounty loads him with blessings. 
" Thou saidst, / will not hear thee;" — every feeling, every 
passion rising up and in hardness and defiance shutting 
out the hated intruder. '"And this lias been thy manner 
from thy youth." This haughty resistance begins with 
the prosperous in childhood and becomes every year more 
inveterate and desperate. 



270 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

The first passion which prosperity nourishes and in- 
flames is an absorbing love of the world ; and I need not 
tell yon with what distinctness this Inst says to God, " I 
will not hear thee." My friends, yon know the language 
of the sacred oracles upon this subject. They charge us 
not to be conformed to this world. Over and over they 
say, "Love not the world, neither the things that are in 
the world. If any man love the world, the love of the 
Father is not in him ; for all that is in the world, the lust 
of the flesh, the lust of the eye and the pride of life, is 
not of the Father, but is of the world." They declare 
that "the friendship of the world is enmity against God.". 
In short, they affirm that true faith overcomes the world; 
that the disciple of Jesus is not of the world; and that 
in his prayers, purposes, efforts, and at least in some actual 
progress, the Cross crucifies the world to the Christian, 
and the Christian to the world. 

But now, unless grace interposes most victoriously, you 
know what is the influence of prosperity; the supremacy 
it gives to the empire of the world, to its friendships, 
maxims, fashions, examples, spirit. To those who are in 
prosperity, vainly does a preacher address the most solemn 
admonitions. The more eloquently he inveighs against 
the things of the world, the more eagerly do they put 
forth an invisible hand to draw in closer to them and to 
grasp more tenaciously the objects of their darling pas- 
sions. Elevated to the summit of prosperity, they ex- 
claim, "It is good to be here," and spurn impatiently 
that voice which warns them of hereafter. 

The second passion which prosperity pampers is inor- 
dinate self-love; and most energetic is the tone in which 
this vice rejects the counsels of the Most High, and says 
to him, "I will not hear thee." 

Self abnegation is, as you all know, the very essence of 
the religion of Jesus. " If any man will be my disciple, 
let him deny himself;" and the holiest Christian, after 
twenty, thirty years' conflict, still finds that this duty re- 
quires him to watch and pray without intermission. — 
After having seemed to be finally triumphant, the servant 
of God is humbled in the dust at finding himself again 
deceived and defeated. He is at times almost disheart- 



Prosperity and Adversity, 271 

ened, and begins to complain that the promised succors 
are not afforded him, that the Gospel is not faithful to 
its engagements, and that he will be left, after all, to 
perish. 

Such — so arduous and protracted — is the struggle in 
which the faithful soul is compelled to engage and re- 
engage with that selfishness which, in one or other of its 
diversified forms, is the ruling passion of the human 
heart. And now what is the effect of much prosperity 
upon this lust the great omniscient discerner of our 
thoughts lias told us. Perfectly did Jesus know what is 
in man when, in portraying the votary of this world in 
the midst of success, he represents him as wholly en- 
grossed with himself, as saving, "Soul, thou hast much 
goods laid up for thyself; eat, drink, and be merry." — 
Myself! — my ease, my gratification, to shun whatever can 
trouble or humble me, to secure whatever will flatter my 
taste and promote my pleasure and aggrandizement, — 
there, that is the end and aim of life. You remember 
this parable, my brethren ; and there is another parable 
equally instructive. I mean that of the rich man who 
" lifted up his eyes in hell, being in torment/' You have 
probably eluded the warning of the Saviour, by branding 
Dives as a bloated glutton, who revelled in luxury and 
despised the poor. But undeceive yourselves. Jesus does 
not condemn this opulent citizen for living and dressing 
in a style which his wealth allowed, nor does he breathe 
a word about his cruelty to the poor. Indeed those who 
have travelled in the East know that it is regarded as 
one of the highest evidences of benevolence, if the owner 
of a noble mansion permits beggars to sit at his door and 
receive alms from his visitors. Which of you would tol- 
erate such a nuisance ? The guilt of this sybarite was a 
life of self indulgence, of elegant ease, of refined pleasures, 
of effeminate gratification, which is almost as much op- 
posed to the Gospel as a life of gross sensuality. When 
the apostle speaks of those who are the "enemies of the 
cross of Christ," let us recollect that he refers not to the 
doctrine of the-cross, but to the crucifixion of self which 
the cross demands, without which our faith is dead, our 
orthodoxy only the most deceitful of all heresies. 



272 Richard Fuller s Sermons. 

The third passion which prosperity fosters, and which 
impiously contemns God, is pride, in the Bible this 
vice is everywhere marked as the prolific source of enmity 
to God, and as the object of Jehovah's especial abhorrence. 
" The wicked, through the pride of his countenance, will 
not seek after God." "Though the Lord be high, yet 
hath he respect unto the lowly; but the proud he know- 
eth afar off," keeps him at a distance and beholds in him 
a deadly foe. 

But, now, the influence of great worldly success upon 
this temper is proverbial. " Charge them that are rich 
in this world that they be not high-minded;" but unless 
Omnipotence gives effect to our ministry, we might as 
well go the sea shore and charge the chafing, roaring 
floods to stay their proud waters. Everything conspires 
to swell the heart of the prosperous man. " He is not 
in trouble as other men, neither is he plagued like other 
men ; therefore pride compasseth him about as a chain, 
violence covereth him as a garment." A pensioner en 
God's bounty, he never gives a thought to the author of 
the blessings he enjoys, but glories in the consciousness of 
an insane independence. Loaded with a thousand infirmi- 
ties, the object of God's detestation, he yet finds all those 
around him, even the children of heaven, doing him 
homage; and he says, "Who is the Lord that I should 
obey his voice ?" I wish to carry a high head ; who is the 
Lord that I should hear him when he commands me to 
"esteem others better than myself?" 1 wish to destroy 
the fortunes and characters of my neighbors, and to rise 
upon their ruins ; who is the Lord that I should regard 
his voice when he says, " Love thy neighbor as thyself?" 
I have amassed wealth, my own power hath gotten me 
riches ; who is the Lord that I should respect his authority 
w r hen he claims my possessions as his gifts, and undertakes 
to hold me to account for the use of them ; — I love flat- 
tery ; for though neither I nor my parasites believe these 
adulations, yet one must be of importance when people 
will stoop to falsehoods in order to please him. All this 
maybe condemned by God; but who is he that, to obey 
him, I should cease to seek a gratification so delicious to 
my vanity? Does he wish to monopolize for himself all 
the praise and applause of the earth ? 



Prosperity and Adversity. 373 

There are other evil passions which quicken and 
become rank in the hot-bed of prosperity, but I cannot 
dwell upon them. Let me only remark that they all 
"rebel against God, and contemn the counsel <ji" the 
Most High ;" each despising his reproof, setting at naught 
all his admonitions, saying, in obstinacy and obduracy, 
" I will not hear thee." 

"I will not hear thee." My friend, a life not devoted 
to God can never be happy. Believe it, believe it, your 
blessedness can never be found where you are seeking it, 
in objects beneath you. The soul is greater than all 
earthly things ; greater than -wealth, greater than sensual 
pleasure, greater than honor, greater than the earth, the 
sea, the moon, the stars, the sun — the material universe; 
and it can know rest and felicity only in God. There 
you are, longing for happiness; why are you not happy? 
why, with all your heart can wish in this world, is every- 
thing so stale, flat and unprofitable ? God comes to you 
in your prosperity to tell you why it must be so, and to 
open to you the true source of happiness which can be 
found only in his service. But you spurn him away. 

"I will not hear thee." No language can describe 
the dangers of the society by which you will find your- 
self- surrounded in the day of prosperity. God speaks 
to you that he may put you upon your guard before it is 
too late. He whispers, " My son, if sinners entice thee, 
consent thou not." But you prefer this fatal company 
to his presence, these flatteries to his faithfulness, and 
you casr in your lot among them. 

'I will not hear thee." The Gospel unfolds to you 
the noblest objects of true ambition ;" it calls you to 
" glory, honor, immortality:" it proposes to you a crown 
of glory that will never fade away ; it oilers yon "a far 
more exceeding and an eternal weight of glory." God 
seeks to lire your soul with these sublime aspirations. 
But prosperity debases every heavenly faculty within 
you, and " the earth swallows you up." 

"I will not hear thee." In compassion the Lord 
wishes to find access to your mind, thai he may warn 
you of the true character of these gratifications which 
usually captivate the heart in the day of prosperity. 



274 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

But the prodigal is impatient of his father's advice, ard 
goes into a far country where no unwelcome entreaties 
and admonitions can intrude upon his festivities. 

In, short, there is no argument which God does not 
ply in your prosperity, — calling upon you by your rela- 
tions to him as the Father of mercies; addressing you 
by everything generous, tender, alarming, affecting. And 
this not once or twice, but constantly. Again and 
again, in the morning, the afternoon, at night, Jesus 
comes and knocks at your heart, and waits and listens 
if, in some propitious moment, his goodness may prevail 
on you to remove the bars and Jet him in, that he may 
sup with yon, may bless you with spiritual blessings. 
But it is all in vain. Plead, supplicate, weep, implore, 
it does not signify ; the heart is only locked and bolted 
more resolutely. "And this has been thy manner from 
thy youth." The weeds and vines which choke up the 
portal, shew that for many years it has been fast, and no 
visitant admitted from that quarter. 

II. "I spake unto thee in thy prosperity, but thou 
saidst I will not hear thee," and if God's ways were as 
our ways, here of course would be an end of the matter. 
Love, mercy, bounty, thus crowning a man's days with 
blessings, and all despised ; all serving only to foster 
worldliness, selfishness, pride, contempt for the bene- 
factor; what remains but that justice shall say, "Ephraim 
is joined to idols, let him alone," or rather, "Cut him 
down, why cumbereth he the ground?" Very differ- 
ent, however, is God's conduct to our guilty race. The 
day is indeed coming when those who scorn must alone 
bear it; when, abandoned forever, the rejectors of Christ 
must, in solitary wretchedness, endure the contempt of 
the universe and the tortures of their own self-reproaches. 
But until then, Patience bears our insults, and Love 
still tries new methods to save us. His beneficence 
spurned, God has another resource, it is adversity. "In 
their affliction they will seek me early." Let us now 
glance at this part of our subject. 

The scene is changed. For you a cloud muffles up 
the sun and hangs the heavens in sackcloth. You find 



Prosperity and Adversity. 275 



trouble and anguish ; and it is in the thickest gloom 
that the Saviour now stands knocking at your gate, be- 
seeching you to open and let him hi that his comforts 
may delight your souls. 

"When lie slew them ;" nor let any one impeach the 
goodness of God when be thus deals with us. Stubborn, 
rebellious as we are, it is love which blights our earthly 
hopes and joys, that our souls may be enriched by joys 
and hopes which are eternal. "When he slew them." 
Health had only fed your sensual passions; well, he 
sends sickness into your frames, stretches you on a bed 
of languishing, and you draw nigh to death. The suc- 
cess of your plans had only increased pride, worldliness, 
covetousness ; well, all your schemes are shivered at a 
blow; some failure, some sudden catastrophe lays your 
fortune in the dust. Home and its joys, wedded love, 
parental happiness had converted your bosom into a 
temple for idols and their worship; well, a cold bleak 
shadow falls upon these joys, a coffin crosses your thresh- 
old, a funeral train darkens your door, and your heart 
bows down heavily under blows which have left it a lone 
mourner in its desolation. 

" When he slew them ;" this expression is not too strong, 
for there are things which are worse than death, which 
cause us to cry out for death when it will not come. — 
And as the language implies, it is fearful to think how, 
in an hour, by a single stroke, all this wretchedness may 
fall witheriugly upon the heart. As Ferdinand, king of 
Spain, looked in admiration upon the portrait of a child 
who was laughing till the tears ran down his cheeks, the 
painter said, ' Would your majesty wish to see him weep ?' 
And with a single touch of his brush upon the eyebrows 
and the corners of the mouth, the child seemed to be 
breaking its little heart in an agony of grief. Alas, my 
hearers, it was a counterfeit presentment of human life. 
A single. touch can blast all ; can turn our smiles into 
channels for tears; can cause the brightest and happiest 
to exclaim, " Have pity upon me, have pity upon me, 
ye, my friends, for the hand of God hath touched me." 
" Call me not Naomi, call me Marah, for the Almighty 
hath dealt very bitterly with me." 



276 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

"When he slew them, then they sought him." Afflic- 
tion will not be without some influence for evil or for 
good. Under chastisement Pharaoh hardened his heart 
but the more. And hear how the prophet reproves the 
obduracy of the Jews, when the Lord sought to correct 
them. " In that day did the Lord God of hosts call to 
weeping, and to baldness, and to girding with sackcloth ; 
but behold joy and gladness, slaying of oxen and killing 
of sheep, eating flesh and drinking wine, let us eat and 
drink for to-morrow we die." " Lord, thou hast 
stricken them, but they have not grieved, thou hast con- 
sumed them, but they have refused instruction, they have 
made their faces harder than a rock." The case before 
us seems more hopeful. When in our prosperity God 
had said, " Seek ye my face," he had been spurned away. 
Now, however, the language of the mourning soul is, 
" Thy face, Lord, will I seek." " Because they rebelled 
against the words of God, and contemned the counsel of 
the Most High, therefore he brought down their heart 
with labor, they fell down and there was none to help; 
then they cried unto the Lord in their trouble." 

This is not all. "They returned and inquired early 
after God." Jeremiah complained of Israel, that though 
sorely punished, "they refused to return." The gen- 
uineness of the prodigal's repentance is seen in his return 
to his father; and there is the same evidence of true re- 
pentance here. "They returned." Affliction recalled 
them from the sinful ways in which they had long 
wandered. They come, too, earnestly seeking to know 
Avhat they must do. In the closet, in the sanctuary, 
from the lips of the preacher, from the pages of the once 
neglected Bible, they "enquire early after God." 

" And they remembered that God was their rock, the 
high God their Redeemer." They confess that the rock 
of this world — its supports and confidences — is not as 
the Christian's Rock. "From the end of the earth," 
from the "far country" into which their passions had 
hurried them — they cry unto the Lord, when their hearts 
are overwhelmed within them, and implore him to lead 
them "to the Rock which is higher than they." They 
acknowledge the hand which has dashed their earthly 



Prosperity and Adversity. 277 

joys, and feel that it was only thus they could have been 
brought to lift their eyes to heaven. They adore the Re- 
deemer who hath sent from on high and taken them and 
snatched them out of the vortex which was about to 
swallow them up forever. 

" When he slew them, then they sought him, and they 
returned and enquired early after God ; and they remem- 
bered that God was their Rock, and the high God their 
Redeemer." And in all this they were perfectly sincere. 
It would, indeed, be a shocking libel to say that the ten- 
der emotions, the confessions, the tears which we witness 
in the house of mourning are hypocritical; the deepest 
piety is not more unquestionably the authentic sentiment 
of the heart. What God complains of is, that all proves 
abortive; that prayers, confessions, tears, vows all soon 
evaporate. 

It is with this God upbraids us in the text, and I could 
easily shew that the indignant language he employs is 
only too justly merited, whether w r e consider the incon- 
sistency, or the weakness, or the mockery of these fruit- 
less professions. 

But as our present subject is the danger of unsanctified 
adversity, I confine my remarks to this point. A relapse 
is more apt to be fatal than the original disease, and if, 
after we have escaped the corruptions of the world through 
the power of chastisement, we are again entangled therein, 
our last state is worse than the first. It is, therefore, of 
everlasting importance that we be upon cur guard against 
the insidious processes by which the influences of afflic- 
tion are gradually impaired, and the passions re-usurp a 
dominion which it was hoped they had lost forever. 

In afflicting us, God designs to wean us from the world. 
He says, "Set your affections on things above, not on 
things on the earth." He loves us too much not to seek 
to break off an attachment which will be fatal to the soul. 
We cannot be even superficially acquainted with the life 
required by the Gospel without at once feeling that either 
Jesus must reverse his laws to allow us to enjoy uninter- 
rupted prosperity, or he must establish these Jaws in our 
hearts by disappointment and discipline. Our bereave- 
ments are intended to act as antidotes to the bane which 

12 



278 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

abundant success brings with it; and, to judge by appear- 
ances, they at first seem to accomplish this purpose; but 
by little and little their efficacy is weakend, and former 
associations and habits begin to re-assert their supremacy 
over the heart. "Seest thou how Ahab humbleth himself 
before me?" said the Lord to Elijah; "because he hum- 
bleth himself before me I will not bring the evil in his 
days." Yet Ahab's heart was not changed; he returned 
to his sins; until, being often reproved and hardening 
his neck, he was suddenly cut down. Never was there 
repentance which seemed to be more profound and gen- 
uine than that of Israel when they exclaimed, "Come, let 
us return unto the Lord; for he hath torn and he will 
heal us; he hath smitten and he will bind us up; after 
two days he will revive us, the third day he will raise us 
up, and we shall live in his sight." But what follows ? 
It is directly after these professions that we hear Jehovah 
uttering the complaint of one at a loss what course to 
take with a people whose piety was so transient and de- 
ceitful, saying, " Ephraim, what shall I do unto thee ? 
Judah, what shall I do unto thee? for your goodness 
is as the morning cloud, and as the early dew it goeth 
away." 

God's motive in afflicting us is love. " Whom the Lord 
loveth he chasteneth," — designing thus to correct them 
for their sins, to keep them back from greater sin, to draw 
them nearer to himself, to fit them for higher usefulness. 
Even with the severest discipline of sorrow, how difficult 
it is to keep the heart detached from sinful desires and 
glowing with love to Jesus and his service; what then 
would become of us if we were spared these salutary 
chastisements? And then when the heart is thus melted, 
we behold the love of the Father who has mercifully cor- 
rected us for our profit ; we cannot forgive ourselves for 
the past ; and for the future we say, "All that the Lord 
hath spoken we will do." But, alas, we soon begin to 
murmur ; our hearts begin to question the love of God, 
to complain of his dealings, to rise up in mutiny against 
him. 

This restless, rebellious spirit prepares a third tempta- 
tion which finds in our afflictions an excuse for our per- 



Prosperity and Adversity. 

fidiousness. What oughi to be our temper wIumi we are 
under chastisements, you all know. We should imitate 
the example of those -'who through faith and patience 
inherit the promises." Remembering (hat God is a Fa- 
ther correcting us in love, ^ve ought to cast all our care 
upon him, assured that he will not break the bruised 
reed nor quench the smoking flax ; we ought to cherish 
the iilial submission and confidence of him who, in his 
bitterest agony, still exclaimed, " Nevertheless, not my 
will, but thine be done." 

Instead of this, Ave make our very afflictions a pretext 
for returning to the world. We plead our weakness and 
the need of some recreation to sustain us; forgetting that 
our weakness is the very reason why we must be detached 
from these follies. We say that our afflictions are pecu- 
liar ; as if it were not indispensable that the remedy for 
such hearts should be a specific. Nay we even complain 
that our distress renders it impossible for us to devote 
ourselves to Jesus; when our own experience ought to 
teach us that it was only by this discipline that we could 
be aroused to a sense of our danger and duty. Ah, if in 
anguish of soul, Ave were deploring our depravity, God 
would hear and console us; but Ave love the world, Ave 
long to return to Egypt, and Ave murmur against God as 
a hard master, because he deals with us in the only 
method by which Ave can be saved. 

In fine, unless the Lord mercifully interpose to arrest 
us, the last step is as inevitable as it is fatal. A heart 
thus seeking pretexts for faithlessness, will not be long 
faithful. A yoke so Avearisome will soon be cast off. The 
world which had been renounced for a while, but whose 
charms have borrowed attractions from the distance, will 
resume its sovereignty. Some terms, some appearances 
Avill still be observed, but the heart is gone. In assum- 
ing an exterior of respect, the soul is only imitating Ju- 
das in his devotions, that it may imitate him in its treach- 
ery. With whetted appetites Ave surrender ourselves to 
pleasures for which Ave have long burned, and plunge 
again into the Avhirlpool from which Ave had blessed God 
for having mercifully drawn us. 



280 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

And now what are we to say to such a life ? Great as 
was the obduracy of Moab, God bore with him because 
he had been " at ease from his youth, and had not yet 
been emptied from vessel to vessel ;" but you, my dear 
hearers, to whom this part of my subject applies, what 
must be your doom, if you defeat all the appliances of 
mercy and judgment. In returning to your former 
courses, you make a final and deliberate choice ; you say, 
" There is no hope, no, for I have loved strangers, and 
after them I will go." If, after having made such solemn 
resolutions, you violate them, what infatuation is yours ; 
for do the truths which so deeply affected you in afflic- 
tion become less true because you cease to think of them? 

This conduct betrays a fund of depravity which is 
most appalling. God's complaint against Israel was that, 
while all other nations had been left in darkness, they 
had been the objects of his peculiar attention, they had 
been instructed ; yet they mingled in the idolatries of the 
surrounding people. And so with you. Others are aban- 
doned to their blindness ; but God has enlightened you. 
In the bottom of your heart you despise the things which 
others worship. Over and over you confess the vanity 
of the very objects which you still allow to seduce your 
heart. Is not this the summit of ingratitude and wick- 
edness? And reflect how all this will appear to you in a 
dying hour. Then, at least, God will be heard ; and what 
reply will you then make, when he reminds you how you 
frustrated the ministers of his word and providence, 
when Jesus shall recall all his patience and all your ob- 
stinacy? What answer will you give when he says — I 
spake to thee in thy prosperity, but thou didst spurn me ; 
I came in the darkness of adversity, but thou didst mock 
me; I entreated, I addiessed thy reason, I pleaded with 
thy conscience, I appealed to thy heart, and though thou 
didst bar me out and admit my enemies, still I did not 
forsake thee. I stood year after year, knocking, pleading, 
entreating, beseeching ; I counted nothing too costly. — 
I laid down my life for you, and stood at the door, 
knocking with the cross wet with my own blood, when 
I might have broken in with a sword to be bathed in 
yours. Yet all this has been in vain. How will you 



Prosperity and Adversity. 281 

meet these reproofs? What will yon reply to such a 
charge? Nothing, yon will have nothing to say. Yon 
will be speechless, for yon will be self-condemned. You 
will feel, as a dying man once said to me, that for you 
there remains only one doom; that the voice which once 
warned and entreated is now uttering those terrible words 
of despair, "Because I have called and ye refused, I have 
stretched out my hand and ye did not regard it, but have 
set at naught all my counsel, and would none of my re- 
proof, I also will laugh at yonr calamity, I will mock 
when your fear comet h, when your fear cometh as deso- 
lation, and your destruction cometh as a whirlwind, when 
distress and anguish cometh upon you ; then shall ye 
call upon me, but I will not answer; they shall seek me 
early, but they shall not find me." 

The lessons to be derived from our whole subject are 
so plain that I might safely leave them to your own re- 
flections. 

One truth, and one which ought to affect our hearts, 
is, " the riches of the goodness and forbearance and long 
suffering of God." Blessings multiplied onlj to be de- 
spised, only to nourish worldliness, pride, selfishness, 
contempt ; afflictions only mocking God with tears, con- 
fessions, promises to be perfidiously forgotten as soon as 
the heart is consoled; — after such obduracy and obstina- 
cy what can Ave expect but that justice shall take its 
course, and those who are thus incorrigible be suddenly 
destroyed? Instead of this, hear how God treats these 
miserable sinners who have again and again wearied his 
patience and despised his entreaties : " But he being full 
of compassion, forgave their iniquity and destroyed them 
not ; yea, many a time turned he away his anger, and did 
not stir up all his wrath, for he remembered that they 
were but flesh, a wind that passeth away and cometh not 
again." What pity, what compassion. Tell me what 
sort of heart is that which can rebel against such a 
Being? which can call him a hard master, and turn such 
mercy into a motive for persevering in sin? 

My beloved hearers, what sentiments are in your bo- 
soms in view of such condescension and love? Can you 
abuse this long suffering and goodness? God forbid. — 



282 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

No, when God speaks, let us hear his voice, let us, like 
Abraham, say, " Here am I," and whatever be his dealings, 
let us at once correspond with his designs. 

If he blesses us with prosperity, let us enter into his 
gracious purposes. These mercies are intended to inspire 
gratitude, to bind us to him in filial obedience. We are 
enriched by his bounty that we may be almoners to the 
poor and suffering ; that we may contribute to his cause 
upon earth ; that we may do good to all, especially to 
those who are of the household of faith. It behooves us, 
too, in such a state, to be watchful and prayerful ; for it 
is when riches increase, that we are tempted to set our 
heart upon them, and the dangers of temporal prosperity 
are the most insidious which can assail the soul. 

And in the day of adversity let us "consider;" consider 
the cause and designs of our afflictions. Let us say unto 
God, " Do not condemn me; shew me wherefore thou 
contendest with me." "Righteous art thou, Lord, 
when I plead with thee; yet let me talk with thee of thy 
judgments." The voice of the rod may seem stern, but 
let us never forget that the rod is in the hands of a ten- 
der Father who speaketh unto us as unto children, — 
" My son, despise thou not the chastening of the Lord, 
nor faint when thou art rebuked of him ; for whom the 
Lord loveth he chastenetb, and scourgeth every son 
whom he receiveth." The pillar which led Israel through 
the wilderness was dark by day, and luminous only at 
night ; so God's dealings are during life wrapped in ob- 
scurity; but death will interpret all. Let us give our 
unlimited confidence to him who says, " What I do you 
know not now, but you shall know hereafter." Howev- 
er precious a diamond, it is only when cut with many 
facets that it shines in all its brilliancy; and the soul 
Avill reflect the radiance of the Sun of righteousness just 
as it is made perfect through suffering. Let us remem- 
ber that every sorrow is sent to wean us from objects fa- 
tal to our spiritual prosperity, and to cause us to lift our 
eyes and stretch out our hands to that heaven in which 
alone we can be satisfied. Whatever our losses, let us 
not lose our afflictions. However grievous they may be 
at present, let us humble ourselves and bow meekly be- 



Prosper ihf and Adversity. 283 



fore the Chastener, knowing that "afterwards they yield 

the peaceable fruits ol* righteousness to them who are ex- 
ercised thereby." 

Thus living, we shall be safe and peaceful in whatever 
situation the providence of God may place us. Affliction 
will have no sting, prosperity no perils. Heavenly con- 
solations will assuage all our griefs ; heavenly benedic- 
tions will multiply all our joys. Adversity will prove to 
be the highest prosperity ; for it will build up in us a 
faith, patience, courage, assurance, of which we had not 
known that we were capable. And earthly prosperity 
will elevate our hearts, fill them with celestial blessed- 
ness, cause them, even in such a world, to anticipate 
the calm, holy ecstasy of the glorified, into whose souls 
the Spirit of love forever pours a full tide of love, and 
whose zeal will be fired with new ardors, whose adoring 
gratitude shall swell with fresh raptures, as the ages of 
eternity roll on. 

Now the God of all grace, who hath called us unto his 
eternal glory by Christ Jesus, after that ye have suffered 
awhile, make you perfect, stablish, strengthen, settle you. 
To him be glory and dominion, forever and ever. Amen. 



2S4 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 



Srrtuon jFCfteeutft- 



CHRISTIANS TO BE LIGHTS 
AND EXAMPLES. 

14 That ye may be blameless and harmless, the sons of God without 
rebuke in the midst of a crooked and perverse nation, among 
whom ye shine as lights in the world, holding forth the word of life, 
that I may rejoice in the day of Christ, that I have not run in vain, 
neither laboured in vain."— Philippians ii : 15,16. 

THE regeneration of a, ruined world is the very mis- 
sion of the Gospel of Christ. The church and the 
world are, therefore, antagonistical societies. They are 
under such opposing influences, that there ever has been 
and ever must be, a settled, uncompromising conflict 
between them. Nor, in this controversy is there any 
argument so conclusive as that which is furnished iii 
the lives of true, devoted Christians. 

We find the first champions of the cross constantly 
glorifying God for the grace which commenced and 
nourished in their converts a principle of self- renouncing 
holiness; appealing triumphantly to these seals of their 
ministry ; and in comparison with such vouchers, regard- 
ing gifts of eloquence, their apostolic office, their super- 
natural powers, as of little worth. And, on the other 
hand, the text, with many similar passages, declares, not 
only that the name of God might be blasphemed among 
the wicked by reason of the misconduct of professed 
Christians, but that such inconsistencies would defeat 
the Gospel, though Paul himself were the preacher. 

I. In discoursing upon this subject, I begin by in- 
quiring, whether the religion of Jesus ought to be held 



Christians to be bights and Examples. 285 



responsible for the evil behavior of (hose who prof 
it? And I submit to you that there can be hut one 
answer to this question, Indeed the people who are 
forever croaking and clamoring about the inconsisten- 
cies of professed Christians settle this matter by (heir 
very invectives; since they thus unconsciously confess 
that the standard of morality required by the Gospel is 
most exalted. No matter how wicked an infidel may be, 
nobody accuses him of not acting in accordance with his 
principles ; it is felt by society that he is quite consistent 
when he openly lives in every sensual indulgence. But 
let a member of the church be only suspected of such 
things, and the world at once exclaims — He has fallen ! 
How dishonorable ! What a scandal to religion! The 
enemies of Christ themselves being judges, the doctrines 
of the Gospel are thus admitted to be most holy. A 
decisive tribute is rendered to these doctrines by the very 
sneers so liberally shed upon the personal deficiencies of 
professed converts. 

The purest and most heavenly truths are, however, 
only truths. They can enlighten, admonish, exhort; 
they cannot compel. If a man supposed to be sane vio- 
late the dictates of reason and ruins himself, we say, he 
has acted irrationally ; we do not impeach the dignity of 
the human intellect. A physician prescribes medicine, 
regimen, diet which would cure a disease. His patient 
promises to comply, but disobeys tnese counsels and dies. 
We condemn his folly; we do not blame his medical 
adviser. And just so with the Gospel. It dispenses 
doctrines which are pure, the reception of which must 
produce sanctity in the heart and life; but it cannot be 
held accountable for the delinquencies of those who 
assume a form of godliness, while rejecting its power. 

"Well, well, all this is incontestable; but the Gospel 
asserts its potency to change the character." Assuredly; 
and the physician affirms that his medicines will correct 
the disorders of the system and cure the malady. Xow, 
do you decide as to the virtue of his prescriptions, by 
examining the sick people who pretend to value and to 
take — but who in fact reject them ? Judge righteous 
judgment as to the influence of the faith we preach. 

12 * 



286 Richard Fuller s Sermons. 

Look not at those who have never opened their hearts to its 
transforming power; but look at the examples of those 
who attest its celestial efficacy; — the noble army of 
martyrs, the innumerable company of saints, the cloud 
of witnesses whose characters illustrate the sacred records, 
whose lives and deaths you so ardently admire. Nor 
only these ancient worthies. I appeal to living testimo- 
ny — to the pious around you, within the circle of your 
own acquaintance, perhaps under your own roof — whose 
purity, zeal, self-sacrificing devotion at once receive your 
willing, or extort your reluctant esteem and homage. 

I knew, with shame I confess, that there have been, 
and still are most unworthy members in the communion 
of all the churches; but this is not the fault of the 
Gospel. Bad as these men may be, rest assured they 
would have been much worse without the restraints of 
religion. And if in the eyes of the world their profession 
seems a foil to their defects, setting them off in strong 
exaggerated colors, this fact is itself a concession of the 
glory of the Gospel. " What do ye more than others." 
Men expect more — they are justified in demanding more 
of a Christian than of others. In him, therefore, blem- 
ishes will be observed and condemned which would not 
be noticed in other men. All this is so, ho.vever, simply 
because the Christian's faith is so holy. A spot on the 
sun's disc attracts our attention because there is darkness 
where we had a right to expect that all would be 
bright. 

II. Here I think I may rest as to our first topic. I 
suppose you will all admit the injustice of making the 
religion of Jesus responsible for the misconduct of those 
who profess it. I now advance another assertion. I 
affirm that men of the world are not only unfair to the 
Gospel, when they seek to load it with the sins of its 
nominal professors, but they are wholly unjustifiable in 
most of the censures which they love to lavish upon the 
members of Christ's church. 

I at once acknowledge that there is a defectiveness in 
the sincerest Christians. This attests the perfection of 
the Gospel standard, that the purest saint will come 



Christians to he Lights and Examples. 287 



short of it. I know, too, as I have just said, that the 
faults of professed Christians stand out in bold relief, 
while their self denials and graces, shrinking from 
ostentation, do not appear unto men. And it is not to 
be questioned that there is, at this day, a greal deal of 
spurious religion. In the age of the apostles cross- 
bearing was a word of the most stern significance ; for 
the cross was an emblem of suffering, shame, and death. 
Those who then named the name of Jesus had to come 
out from the world, to fight the good fight of faith, to 
immolate ease, honor, fortune, family, often life. It cost 
something to be a Christian then. Now, Christianity 
has become a most accommodating, comfortable system. 
At present one may he an orthodox Christian, may even 
be esteemed an eminent Christian, not only without 
making sacrifices, but without having really chosen 
Christ and his truth. Multitudes are Christians by 
birth, through custom, or fashion. And in a period of 
such degeneracy there will, of course, be too much cause 
for invidious comparisons between the maxims, princi- 
ples, spirit of the New Testament, and the sad discrep- 
ancies in the conduct of those who pretend to adopt that 
volume as their rule of faith and practice. 

But still, for all that, I pronounce this everlasting 
carping and canting about hypocrisy in Christians to be 
nothing but hypocrisy in men of the world. The more 
you examine it, the more will you detect a want of all 
common equity, the utter absence of everything like the 
impartiality and honesty which characterize the dealings 
of honorable men in other matters. In their sneers and 
scoffs we have, in fact, the fulfillment of the Saviour's 
prediction. In his farewell address he prepares his dis- 
ciples for the treatment they must expect; he warns us 
that a world which hated him, will not caress his fol- 
lowers: that if men call the Master Beelzebub, the 
servants will hardly be called angels — they must not 
hope to escape suspicions and accusations. 

That these tirades are only so much ribald invective, 
is a matter of common observation among all candid 
people. But if any here present are disposed to question 
what I assert so confidently, I ask them to make two re- 



288 Richard Fuller s Sermons. 

flections ; one on the character of these censors ; the 
other on the censures they are constantly heaping upon 
the disciples of Jesus. Follow me in these thoughts. 

First, the censors, — these purists thus eternally croak- 
ing about professors of religion — who are they ? 

Those who love Christ, alas, too often, feel their hearts 
bleed for the dishonor which treachery brings upon his 
cause. It is impossible to read without deep emotion the 
language of the apostle, in which he speaks of the fre- 
quent declensions around him, and of his anxieties, his 
sorrows, his expostulations, the bitter tears wrung from 
his soul, in view of such perfidiuosness. " Many walk 
of whom I have told you o ten, and now tell you even 
weeping, that they are the enemies of the cross of Christ." 

He felt that the worldliness, avarice, sensuality of pro- 
fessed Christians were far more disastrous to the truth, 
than all the attacks of open hostility. And he could 
not without shedding tears, see the sins of professed 
converts frustrating all his labors, and causing tne Gos- 
pel to be despised. Nor was this love, this zeal, this 
solicitude peculiar to Paul ; it is shared by every real 
pastor, by every real Christian. These will "cry and 
sigh for all the abominations" that are done in the 
land. They will glow with some of Elijah's jealousy. 
They will rejoice in the prosperity of Zion, and weep 
over her desolations. They will sympathize with the 
Hebrews who, though banished from their homes and 
bowed down under bondage, forgot their own miseries, 
thought only of Zion, as they poured out that plaintive 
wail of grief and love — " If I forget thee, Jerusalem, 
let my right hand forget her cunning; if I do not remem- 
ber thee, let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth ; 
if I prefer not Jerusalem above my chief joy." This 
language is the instinctive utterance of that deep concern 
which ever;/ faithful disciple feels for the honor of the 
chinch. In all her afflictions he will lie afflicted; and 
rivers of water will run down his eyes, as he sees Christ's 
truth betrayed by those to whom it has been confided. 

Yes, the wounds of Zion are felt as personal griefs by 
those who love Jesus. J3ut is it from them we hear these 



Christian* to be Lights and Examples. 289 



clamors about the inconsistencies of Christians? No; 
they mourn over them. They seek to heal these wounds. 
To them, dishonor brought upon the church is like dis- 
grace staining their own families. Their souls are bowed 
down in silent mortification ; or, if they speak, it is to God, 
pouring out their sorrows at his feet. It is from those 
who in their conduct contemn the authority of Go I, who 
violate the precepts of the Saviour, and who are ranged 
among his open enemies,— it is from these we hear all 
this outcry. These are our censors of Christian morals. 
these are the men who are so fastidious as to the duty, so 
over sensitive as to the reputation of the people of God ; 
and who keep up such lamentations about the scandal 
brought upon religion. Now, does anybody believe 
that these cavillers are sincere? that they are truly 
jealous for the interests of the Gospel? that they really 
take to heart the injured glory of God? If so, they 
would wish to conceal these defects; nay, the wrong 
done to the Redeemer would kindle in their bosoms holy 
indignation, a noble zeal to defend his suffering cause ; 
a generous impulse would hurry them to the rescue of one 
so dear to their hearts. 

Instead of this, it is notorious that these men feel a 
secret pleasure in the imperfections of Christians. They 
delight to publish and exaggerate them. They belong 
invariably to one of two classes. They are either the 
secret haters of God, who are gratified when his cause 
suffers, who wish to tarnish his character by exposing 
the errors of his children, or they are men whose con- 
sciences trouble them with accusations of guilt; and who, 
enlightened, but unwilling to forsake their evil ways, find 
an opiate for their convictions in the irregularities of 
Christians. These are our censors. These are the 
puritans whose consciences are so tender, that they are 
incessantly deploring the deficiencies of the professors of 
religion; ever proclaiming what Christians ought to be, 
but are not; everlastingly pointing to every aberration, 
every indiscretion in church members; thanking God 
that they are not hypocrites as other men are, and thus 
quieting themselves in impenitence, worldliness and sin. 

Having seen what is the character of those who are 
every day heard commenting on the conduct of Christians 



290 Richard Fuller s Sermons. 



let us now pass to our second reflection, let us examine 
the charges constantly found in their mouths. A glance 
will expose the odiousuess and wickedness of these old, 
stale insinuations and detractions. 

Their cruelty ; for it may he truly said, that the world 
is more severe in marking the offences of the righteous 
than the Bible itself. John and Jesus are the represent- 
atives of two contrasted types of piety. The former was 
austere, ascetical, sequestered from society; and he had 
this testimony that he pleased God. He was " a burning 
and a shining light." " Of all born of women there 
hath not arisen a greater than John the Baptist." Jesus 
was the incarnation of divine love, purity, tenderness. — 
Twice, as if the Father's delight in him could not be re- 
pressed, a voice from heaven declared, "This is my be- 
loved Son, in whom I am well pleased." But neither 
John nor Jesus could please the world. Its gossips were 
busy with the character of each. John "had a devil." 
Jesus was "a gluttonous man and a wine-bibber. 

Their depravity ; for uncharitable judging really pro- 
ceeds from a corrupt heart. When free from the defile- 
ments of sin, David finds "rivers of waters" running 
down his eyes as he saw the real wickedness around him. 
It was when he had yielded to a guilty passion, that his 
indignation against an imaginary criminal would know 
no bounds, and he said, "The man that hath done this 
thing shall surely die." A Christian truly loving holi- 
ness and striving after it finds so much evil in himself, 
that he lies low before God in deep self-abhorrence. He 
cannot, with the pharisee point to others in self-compla- 
cency and arrogance. His are the attitude and the hum- 
ble cry of the publican, who "would not so much as lift 
his eyes to heaven, but smote upon his breast, saying, 
God be merciful to me a sinner." A man who is thor- 
oughly sincere and guileless himself, can scarcely believe 
that there are impostors and hypocrites in the world. — 
He possesses that charity, "which thinketh no evil," 
which beiieveth all things, hopeth all things." Those 
who are forever suspecting others, doubting their piety 
for the least irregularity, really judge others by them- 
selves. They pique themselves on what they call their 



Christians to be Lights and Examples. 291 



knowledge of human nai are, which is simply ;i conscious- 
ness of their own duplicity and selfishness. They exer- 
cise no charity, make no allowances, because they think- 
that others mast carry concealed in their bosoms the 
same passions which they nourish, and that in whatever 
seems virtuous all men are, like them -elves, acting a part 
in which deception is necessary. 

The ungenerousness of these taunts and invectives; 
since it is almost always through the influence of these 
very persons who are most satirical and unsparing that 
the converts to the G-ospel are seduced into inconsisten- 
cies. So many attentions, so many snares spread before 
them, such examples, maxims, fashions, flatteries, — it is 
not surprising if the young and unsuspecting are decoyed, 
— nay, if some who imprudently comply in the hope of 
doing good are surprised into improper conformity to the 
world. But with what decency can the tempters point 
to the mischief which they themselves have done, and re- 
proach the victims of their own pernicious solicitations? 
Lineal descendants are they of their father the Devil, 
who is styled "the accuser of the brethren," because he 
reviles them, after they have been betrayed by his own 
artifices. 

The palpable self -contradict ion of these cynics who 
thus sport themselves with the misbehavior of professed 
Christians, and its baneful consequences. For, no mat- 
ter how vicious their own conduct may be, they expect 
us to believe that their hearts are better than their lives ; 
but they cannot believe that the heart of the most upright 
is sincere, if he be overtaken by a single fault. Press 
upon them the duties of religion — which, of course, are 
as binding upon them as upon the Christian — and what 
is their excuse ? They cannot perform a task so arduous. 
To be a real Christian is an achievement impossible to 
such a being as man is. Yet they grant no indulgence 
to beings subject to like passions with themselves, who 
are engaged in this unequal conflict. Let the guiltiest 
reprobate, after a life spent in open contempt of Cod, 
only confess his crimes on his death-bed, let him implore 
our prayers, let him shed a few tears extorted by terror, 
— and these people are shocked at our want of charity, 



292 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

if we do not at once open wide the doors of paradise and 
assure him of heaven. But the salvation of the most 
devoted saint is more than doubtful, if, after twenty, 
thirty, fifty years of exemplary piety, the lustre of his 
character be dimmed by a frailty, by an indiscretion 
which has caused him to weep bitterly, day and night, 
before God. 

Our last remark as to these opprobriums and deprecia- 
tions has reference to their impiety and barbarity. 

Impiety ; for the Gospel is the only hope of the world, 
it is " the wisdom and power of God unto salvation." 
Take away this heavenly resource, and the whole human 
family sinks into irretrievable perdition. Now these in- 
cessant diatribes against the righteous are, in fact, attacks 
upon the Gospel ; and, like all calumny, they are a fire 
which tarnishes and blackens what it cannot destroy. 
It is not hypocrisy which is assailed, it is religion itself. 
These detractors pretend, indeed, that their remarks are 
levelled only against dissimulation and falsehood; but 
the effect of their sarcasms is to impair all confidence in 
the Bible; it is to bring religion itself into contempt. 

And barbarity ; for what do these cavillers really 
mean by the repetition of their cold sneers and flippan- 
cies ? They mean that there are no true Christians. 
Disguise it as they may, this is the inference "they wish 
people to draw. But what an inference ! Because Judas 
and Simon Magus were false-hearted, therefore the apos- 
tles were deceivers. Because some merchants are dis- 
honorable, some pastors unprincipled, therefore all me r- 
chants are rogues, all ministers of the Gospel are profli- 
gates. I apply to this insinuation the epithet barbarous, 
because it outrages all decency. It is a sort of reasoning 
which is revolting and horrible, since it would throw 
poison into every source of human confidence. How 
many friends have proved unfaithful; is there, therefore, 
no such thing as sincere friendship upon earth? How 
many wives have been perfidious; is there, therefore, no 
chastity in woman ? The world has sometimes known 
such a monster as an unnatural mother; but who, from 
such a hideous phenomenon, would wish to draw the 
conclusion that all mothers are unnatural — that this 



Christians to be Lights and I- 1 , so tuples. 203 



purest, dearest, sweetest, tenderest love is all a counterfeit 
and a falsehood ? 

.III. If you have followed me in the preceding arti- 
cles, you will I hope, concede two truths. You will ad- 
mit that the Gospel is not responsible for the misconduct 
of those who dishonor it; and that this universal fault- 
finding with the professors of religion is nothing but so 
much ribaldry and profanity. But, while all this is so, 
what then ? What argument are we to deduce from 
these concessions ? Are we at liberty to disregard the 
opinion of the world ? Far from it. The word of God 
and our own good sense ought to carry us to the very 
opposite decision. They admonish us that the scrutiny 
and censoriousness of the world are the very reasons why 
we should be more circumspect, more scrupulously holy 
in all our life and conversation. 

Our text recognizes the injustice of which I have been 
speaking. It declares that the children of this world 
among whom we have our conversation, are " a crooked 
and perverse generation." And prophets, apostles, the Sa- 
viour, the entire Scriptures warn us to expect obloquy 
and enmity. But, after all, we are sent to save these 
crooked and perverse people ; and, if our mission is to be 
successful, we must deal with them as they are ; we must 
consider their prejudices, their captiousness, their sins. 

True the Gospel cannot justly be held accountable for 
the inconsistencies of those who profess it ; but it is held 
accountable for them. True, the charges against Chris- 
tians are most unfair ; but they are repeated every day 
and hour. What follows ? This, plainly this : We 
must " with well-doing put to silence the ignorance of 
foolish men," " that whereas they speak evil of you as of 
evil doers, they may be ashamed who falsely accuse your 
>ood conversation in Christ." jNTor must we only main- 
ain a character of unblemished integrity ; this the men 
of the world may do. A Christian must go farther; he 
must exemplify in his conduct the tempers and graces 
which become his heavenly calling, and which form a 
style of excellence high above the ethics of this world. — 
We are to be ''blameless and harmless, the sons of God 



294 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

without rebuke, in the midst of a crooked and perverse 
generation, among whom ye shine as lights in the world, 
holding forth the word of life." As the eternal Word 
became incarnate in the man Christ Jesus, so the written 
word of life must find its incarnation in our lives and 
characters. Thus must we vindicate the Gospel from the 
aspersions of those who seek false witnesses against it, as 
they did against its Author. Thus will we compel an 
unjust world, "seeing our good works, to glorify our Fa- 
ther who is in heaven." 

We cannot open the sacred volume without at once 
perceiving several striking facts. We find the first preach- 
ers always appealing confidently to their converts as to 
witnesses whose conduct attested the efficacy of the Gospel. 
And we find the first Christians appealing as confidently 
to their lives as proofs of their faith. The apostle de- 
clares that those brought to Jesus by his ministry were 
letters written by the Holy Spirit, recommending not 
only him but the Gospel which he preached. They were 
" epistles known and read of all men ;" those who could 
not spell out a letter made with ink, easily comprehend- 
ing the truth transcribed in a holy life ; those who de- 
spised the revelations in the Bible, reading every day in 
living examples a revelation which they could not de- 
spise, a revelation bearing God's plain signature, — a law 
silently but constantly convincing them of their guilt, — 
a Gospel silently but irresistibly winning them to the 
Eedeemer. 

Another most remarkable fact. Where there were 
churches, the apostles despaired of any great success in 
their preaching, unless the members of the churches ex- 
hibited practically the sanctifying power of the Gospel. 
Whatever different opinions may be entertained as to the 
declaration that Jesus "could not do many wonderful 
works" in a certain place "on account of the unbelief" 
of his hearers, there can be no dispute about the language 
of our text. It is here distinctly affirmed that apostolic 
zeal and eloquence might be foiled by the misconduct of 
professed believers. And if all the earnest, devoted piety 
— the miracles, the tears, the soul-stirring appeals of 
those heavenly messengers could be thus disarmed, — 



Christians to be Lights and Examples, 295 



what is to become of us, if our ministry be not seconded, 
if it be refuted by your lives. 

We sometimes express surprise at the little success of 
the Gospel ; that after eighteen hundred years, it has 
achieved no wider conquests, and has still daily to renew 
a conflict in which it seems often to be baffled. We are 
even tempted at times to doubt whether it can make good 
all which it promises. But when we look at the organ- 
izations called churches, and examine the conduct of most 
of the people called Christians, the real wonder is that 
the Gospel has done so much. Take the most evangeli- 
cal of our churches; take this church. We make our 
boast of orthodoxy, and are confident that we are guides 
to the blind, the lights of those which dwell in dark 
places. But if Paul were here, would he not find too 
abundant cause to remonstrate with us — as he formerly 
did with the Jews — for resting in a knowledge of the 
truth which is miserably unproductive ? On all sides 
he would see much skill in expounding evangelical doc- 
trine, with but little practical conformity to it; he would 
hear us exposing human depravity by overwhelming de- 
monstrations, while deplorably unconscious of the bur- 
den of our own ungodliness; he would behold too many 
expatiating on the atonement and righteousness of Christ, 
without having savingly embraced them; and loudly in- 
sisting on the necessity of holiness, while wretchedly de- 
linquent in all those graces which are the fruits of the 
Spirit. 

A great deal has been lately said and written about the 
mistranslation of one or two Greek words in our version 
of the Bible. But the most lamentable and pernicious 
misinterpretations of the Scriptures are those published 
everywhere in the conduct of multitudes who misrepre- 
sent its teachings and its power. The transcendent puri- 
ty of heavenly truth renders it necessary that the chil- 
dren of the world should see it practised by men like 
themselves ; and our pulpits will be comparatively im- 
potent, until our churches shall furnish such examples, 
until they shall rescue the Gospel from the dishonor in- 
to which it has been sunk; until — illustrating the faith 
and grace of Jesus — walking in holiness and love — a 



296 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

peculiar people shall come forth from the masses of bap- 
tized worldliness, covetousness, selfishness abounding in 
every place, and shall shew what the Gospel is, and 
what the Gospel can do in changing, regenerating, bless- 
ing this guilty earth. 

To no archangel has Jesus committed interests so dear 
to his heart as those which he has confided to us; let us 
be faithful to the trust. I need not tell you that we live 
in a day, amidst events, portending disaster to the en- 
terprises of the Gospel; and which are testing, in the 
severest crucible, the faith, patience, meekness, fidelity 
of every child of God. At all times every Christian 
has his mission. That he is a Christian makes him also 
an apostle. But it is especially at such a time as this, 
that every disciple of Jesus is called to shew the differ- 
ence between his principles and those of the world around 
him. Civil war is afire from hell which not only brings 
to the surface the scum and feculence of a nation, but 
stirs up all the most malignant passions of our depraved 
nature. Amidst abounding iniquity, let not our love 
wax cold. "Go through the midst of the city, through 
the midst of Jerusalem, and set a mark upon the fore- 
heads of the men that sigh and that cry for the abomi- 
nations that are done in the midst thereof." Let us 
bear this mark upon our foreheads now; and so bear it, 
that not only angels but men shall see and reverence its 
lustre. On every side we hear of loyalty and disloyalty, 
of oaths of allegiance to human governments. Recollect 
that the present is an hour which is putting to the proof 
our loyalty to Jesus, and when fidelity will clothe the 
Gospel with peculiar glory. Let us be faithful. Jesus 
has been wounded enough by wicked hands, — wounded 
for our sins. Let him not be wounded by our hands, — 
wounded by our sins. He has been wronged and in- 
sulted by his enemies. Let him not be wronged and in- 
sulted "in the house of his friends." For us he "en- 
dured the cross, despising the shame; can we bear the 
thought of crucifying him afresh, and putting him to an 
open shame by our perfidiousness ? 

For my own part, if I may express my personal feelings 
— while I see you true to Jesus and his cause, my soul 



Christians to be Lights and Example*. 297 

can stand erect and glorify God in any fires, in any ca- 
lamity that may come. ''What is my hope, or joy, or 
crown of rejoicing ? Are not even ye in the presence of 
our Lord Jesus Christ at his coming? For ye are our 
glory and joy." You know the griefs which have lately 
swept over me in gust after gust ; but 1 have been rilled 
with unspeakable consolation, as I beheld your harmony, 
"your order and the steadfastness of your faith in Christ." 
And if it should please heaven still to try me with afflic- 
tion, to rain sorrow and pain upon my head, I think I 
could find in some part of my soul comfort and patience, 
while reflecting that it was "for your consolation and 
salvation " that I thus suffered. 

" Yea," (to use the words immediately following the 
text) "and if I be offered upon the sacrifice and service 
of your faith, I joy and rejoice with you all." But if 
this peace should be disturbed, if the animosities which 
are everywhere convulsing society, embittering families 
and churches, should profane these altars, if your har- 
mony, your steadfast devotion to Christ should give 
way — then, indeed, I could have no heart to bear up 
under such a calamity; I should feel that for me the hap- 
piness of life, the bitterness of death were past. 

In finishing this address, let me first speak to those 
who openly or covertly quiet themselves by dwelling 
upon the inconsistencies of professed Christians. For 
yon, my friends, the subject is full of solemn warning. 

The text declares that these carpings are only the 
pretexts of a crooked and perverse spirit. They are not 
only no pleas, but they condemn you out of your own 
mouth. If you should see the pretended friends of your 
father or child dealing falsely with him, concealing a 
dagger to stab him — would you, for that reason, stand 
aloof and moralize upon the hollowness of human affec- 
tions ? Xo, your whole soul would be roused to protect 
him against these disguised enemies. And if you had a 
spark of love for Jesus, the treachery of his professed 
followers would instinctively draw you to him, and 
enlist your influence in behalf of his injured cause. 



298 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

Suppose I admit all you allege against Christians, it 
could furnish no sort of apology for you ; for it could 
have no sort of connection with your impenitence and 
disobedience. " Who art thou that judgest another 
man's servant? To his own master he standeth or 
falleth." Let me recommend to you a wiser course. Be 
a prophet in your own country. Rest assured that this 
eagerness to justify your own conduct by pointing to 
that of others is always a desire to find an excuse for 
something of which conscience condemns you. Instead, 
then, of criticizing the defects of Christ's servants, turn 
your eyes upon your own sins which have so long pro- 
voked, the justice, and perhaps have almost exhausted the 
patience of God. It is true, (a reflection which causes 
us to tremble) that, if we are faithless, and you perish 
through our evil example, the Lord will require your 
blood at our hands ; but as he has expressly declared, 
your destruction will not be less certain. You have the 
Bible; study the Gospel there, and not in its human and 
imperfect manifestations. You have the preaching of 
the word and your own conscience. From childhood the 
truth has had a lodgment in your bosom; the Holy 
Spirit has been pouring light into your mind ; and before 
you have been the examples of those whose piety you 
cannot question. Go not, then, ali the way to the bar of 
the Judge with a pretext which can avail you nothing; 
which will only prove the depravity of your own heart, 
and aggravate the sentence justly pronounced upon 
you. 

If you are resolved not to identify yourself with the 
cause of Christ, nor to support his truth, at least do not 
join those who are ever seeking to injure that cause by 
exploring and publishing the frailties of its advocates. 
You do not intend, perhaps, to damage religion ; but 
such is the inevitable effect of these " railing accusations" 
against those who name the name of Christ. Let me 
admonish you. too, that this spirit of ribaldry reacts most 
disastrously upon your own character, and must draw 
down the anger of God upon your head. When the wicked 
children of Bethlehem derided the baldness of Elisha, 
there came forth ravenous beasts which tore them in 



Christians to be Lights and Examples* 299 

pieces. And I now tell yon, from God, that none are 
more certainly delivered over to the dominion of wild 
and fatal passions than those who delight to mock at the 
infirmities anjj deficiencies of his people. 

Christians, my beloved brethren, let ns lay this subject 
closely to heart. I ought to speak to you of your own 
salvation. The foolish virgins were condemned, not for 
the evil they had done, but* because their lights did not 
shine. A religion which does not clearly separate you 
from a sinful world now, will not suffice to separate you 
from a lost world in eternity. I ought to remind you, 
also, of your holy lineage. The children of earthly princes 
are taught to regard as worse than death any stain upon 
their honor ; shall the children of the Heavenly Majesty 
be less jealous of their reputation ? The text appeals to 
you as " the sons of God ;" and the Scriptures entreat 
you to "be fo; lowers of God as dear children." They 
seek to stir up our filial longings after the divine image, 
to awaken in us a consciousness of our divine affinities, 
and thus to raise our aspirations to that perfection of the 
soul which constitutes its likeness to the Deity. But to- 
day I would bring the matter to a single issue; I would 
reason and plead as to your influence upon those around 
you. It was with no self-complacent blindness, it was 
with a conscience which made him superior to the pre- 
cautions of a false humility, that Paul said, "Be followers 
of me, and mark them who walk so as ye have us for an 
ensample." Which of us would venture to utter this in- 
vitation ? Alas, the best of us cannot say Come ; we can 
only say Go. And yet men are following us in one di- 
rection or the other. We cannot be hid. We cannot live 
without distributing some influences. Our conduct must 
advance or retard the cause for which Jesus died. 

In the church we cannot be worldly, covetous, faithless 
to our vows ; we cannot be indifferent to the success of 
the Gospel and the triumphs of its institutions ; we can- 
not be lukewarm, contentious, sellish, given to "mur- 
murings and disputings," without bringing scandal upon 
the name of Jesus. And in the world, if our temper 
and conduct resemble those of the unconverted about 
us ; if we do not exemplify the meekness, sincerity, 



300 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

truth, gentleness, humility, purity of the Redeemer, Ave 
dishonor the Gospel, our discrepancies become spots 
and stains upon religion itself. 

We profess to be converted; but conversion — by the 
very force of the word — is the beginning of a new course 
in an opposite direction; it is the commencement of a 
life, not only new, but entirely different. We are 
Christians ; but to be Christians is to be "separate from 
sinners ; it is to be " a peculiar people zealous of good 
works ;" it is to be " not conformed to this world ;" 
it is to be " crucified to the world ;" it is to " crucify the 
flesh with its affections and lusts;" it is (as the text 
declares) to " shine as lights in the world." 

If in our conduct the world sees nothing of these tem- 
pers and graces of the Gospel, it will form a correspond- 
ing estimate of the Gospel itself, and the reproaches of 
those who reproach us will fall upon Jesus and his truth. 
[N~or will the injury be diminished — it will be only aug- 
mented — by our apparent zeal and devotion in the ser- 
vices of the sanctuary, by an irreproachable profession, by 
an assumption of great orthodoxy and spirituality. We 
are to " shine as lights in the world ;" we are to let our 
lights so shine, that " men seeing our good works, may 
glorify our Father in heaven." The world places little 
value upon exterior precision ; it does not understand 
faith, orthodoxy, spirituality; but it does comprehend 
and reverence meekness, humility, honesty, purity ; and 
if these be wanting, our sanctimoniousness will inspire 
only a deeper contempt for us, and religion will be in- 
volved with us in this contempt. 

Beloved brethren, let these thoughts abide with us 
always. "Ye were sometimes darkness, but now are ye 
light in the Lord; walk as children of light; for the 
fruit of the Spirit is in all goodness and righteousness 
and truth; proving what is acceptable unto the Lord. 
And have no fellowship with the unfruitful works of 
darkness, but rather reprove them." I trust, I know 
there are some before me upon whom the truths this day 
uttered will not be lost ; some who yearn after that life 
of faith and entire consecration which alone can raise the 
church from its present degeneracy. Let us at once obey 



Christians to be Lights and Examples. 301 

these heavenly aspirations. By our zeal, holiness, self- 
immolation, unwearied dedication, let us uphold the suf- 
fering interests of the Redeemer. 

It is not open apostasy which, at this day, dims the 
splendor of the truth ; it, is that real Christians " mind 
earthly things," and are thus, as the npostle says, "the 
enemies of the cross of Christ ; — its worst enemies — since 
their virtues invest their testimony with great weight, 
and they practically deny the potency of the cross to cru- 
cify their pride and attachment to the vanities of this life. 
See that you are not found among these enemies. Rest 
satisfied with nothing less than the consciousness of a 
piety which shall put to shame all the clamors of a cen- 
sorious world. The persecutors of Daniel said, "We shall 
not find any occasion against this Daniel, except we find 
it against him concerning the law of his God." Let us 
so act that an uncompromising fidelity to Jesus shall be 
the only charge which malice can invent against ns. If 
the wicked love not the Gospel, let us compel them, at 
least, to respect it. In the midst of a society where all 
are eagerly seeking to amass wealth, to secure worldly 
honor, or sensual gratification, let us show that our af- 
fections are set upon things above. In days like these, 
when the worst passions are abroad, alienating those once 
dear to each other, and inflaming wrath, malice, hatred, 
all uncharitableness — let us remember him "who, when 
he was reviled, reviled not again, when he suffered, threat- 
ened not," and who hath said, " Love your enemi- s, bless 
them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and 
pray for them which despitefully use you and persecute 
you." Disinterestedness, gentleness, uprightness, a no- 
ble superiority to the world, peace, charity, love, — if these 
fruits of the Spirit are sqqu in our lives, they will not only 
silence the censures of " a crooked and perverse na- 
tion," but they will subdue their enmity, conquer their 
prejudices, and, with a still but resistless eloquence, draw 
them to honor the Redeemer now, that they may be hon- 
ored by him hereafter. 

" That ye may be blameless and harmless, the sons of 
God without rebuke, in the midst of a crooked and per- 
verse nation, among whom ye slime as lights in the world, 

13 



302 Richard Fuller's Sermons, 

holding forth the word of life." It is the duty, dignity, 
responsibility of the Christian that the apostle is enforc- 
ing in the words which I have thus sought to impress 
upon you. His allusion is to a light-house, and it recalls 
to my mind an incident related by a distinguished trav- 
eller, with which I finish this discourse. 

" Being at Calais," remarks the writer, " I climbed up 
into the light-house and conversed with the keeper. — 
' Suppose,' said I, 'that one of these lights should go out.' 
' Go out ? impossible ! ' he exclaimed, with a sort of con- 
sternation at the bare hypothesis. ' Sir,' he added, point- 
ing to the ocean, ' Yonder, where nothing can be seen, 
there are ships going by to every part of the world. If 
to-night one of my burners were to go out, within six 
months would come a letter, perhaps from India, perhaps 
from America, perhaps from some place I never heard of, 
saying, On such a night, at such an hour, the lighl at 
Calais burned dim, the watchman neglected his post, and 
vessels were in danger. Ah, sir, sometimes, in the dark 
nights, in stormy weather, I look out to sea, and feel as if 
the eye of the whole world were looking at my lights. — 
Let them go out? burn dim ? never, never, never !' " 

May he who "walketh in the midst of the golden can- 
dlesticks" arm us all with a jealousy and anxiety wake- 
ful as that of this guardian of the French beacon. May 
we ever feel that the eyes of God and of the whole world are 
upon us. And in eternity may we not only find that no 
souls have perished through our faithlessness, but may 
we be among those who — sustained and triumphing by 
almighty grace — having turned many to righteousness — 
shall shine as the brightness of the firmament; and as 
the stars forever and ever. God grant us this unspeak- 
able mercy, for Jesus' sake. 

" Wherefore, also, we pray always for you, that our 
God would count you worthy of this calling, and fulfill 
all the good pleasure of his goodness, and the work of 
faith with power ; that the name of our Lord Jesus 
Christ may be glorified in you and ye in him, according 
to the grace of our God, and the Lord Jesus Christ." 



Love to Christians an Evidence of Conversion. 303 



Sermon <3bi? teeutfi. 



LOVE TO CHRISTIANS AN EVI- 
DENCE OF CONVERSION. 

'* We know that we have passed from death unto life, because we 
love the brethren." — I John iii : 14. 

THERE is reallyno reason why the treatise from which 
I select this text should be termed, the " General 
Epistle of John." It has not a single one of the charac- 
teristics which mark that class of compositions. If you 
turn to the inspired epistles, you find them variously 
addressed; some to particular churches; some to the 
saints in a specified part of the world ; some to the saints 
at large; some to a particular branch of the faithful; 
and some to individual christians. But this book has 
no address ; nor has it anv farewell or benediction. There 
is, to be sure, the easy, colloquial style of correspondence, 
but this idiom was very congenial to the tender, loving 
heart of our apostle, and we find it pervading the Gospel 
written by him. This work is really an inspired essay 
or dissertation ; not an epistle. But whatever the title, 
it is a wonderful production, breathing throughout the 
sweetest, heavenliest strains of love, blended with the 
most glorious doctrines, the divinest precepts, the sublim- 
est mysteries of the Gospel. 

The passage which I have just read is familiar to you 
all ; but on that very account it may not have received 
from you the attention it deserves. I am going to make 
it the subject of our meditations this morning. 



304 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

I. And, first, observe, the text takes it for granted 
that assurance is attainable by every Christian. " We 
knoiv thut we have passed from death unto life." Nor is 
this an isolated passage; you can easily recall others 
equally emphatic upon this great truth. But, now, un- 
derstand what I am affirming. Of course no unregen- 
erate person can know that he is in a state of salvation ; 
for he is not. He may flatter himself in his own eyes 
and cry " Peace, peace;" but it is because he is wilfully 
blind. And a truly converted man may be depressed by 
fears. Wo to us, if doubts as to our salvation could 
make that salvation doubtful. What I say is, that 
assurance is the privilege of every child of God. Indeed 
it would be most deplorable if he could not attain this 
certainty; if after his eyes have been opened to the infi- 
nite importance of eternal things, he must yet be left to 
live al,l his days in suspense and apprehension. 

For, just consider what is the question at stake. It 
is, whether " we have passed from death unto life." 
You at once perceive that the text speaks of spiritual 
life and death ; and the verb used — " have passed" — like 
all the Scriptures- assumes as a fact admitted, that spirit- 
ual death is our natural condition. 

But, now, what a condition. Death is the privation of 
life; I say privation ; for you cannot apply the word to 
anything which was never alive. Objeets which were 
never endowed with the vital principle can, of course, 
never die. Death is the withdrawment, the extinction 
of life. Spiritual death is the loss of spiritual life with 
all its ineffable blessings. God is to the soul what the 
soul is to the body. As our material frame instantly 
dies, when the soul leaves it; so the soul is dead when its 
union with God ceases. Sin has severed that union. 
Cutoff from God, from all spiritual affinity with "the 
Father of Spirits," the soul is dead, its divine existence 
and immortal beauty are gone, it is separated from the 
source of peace and love and life. What a condition 
this now! What a. future, should we (tie in this condi- 
tion. If we had any adequate conception of things, 
such a state as this — moral, spiritual death, and this 
death the harbinger of the second, eternal death — would 



Love In Christians an Evidence of Conversion. 305 



fill us with humiliation, concern, alarm; il would frighten 
and appal us. 

I have conic into this pulpit almost immediately from 
the chamber of death. A few days since, I was requested 
to visit a young man well known to many in this audi- 
ence, nearlyrelated to some of you. This morning, at an 
early hour,' 1 called and found he had just breathed Ins 
Last; and my heart was wrung, 1 could not repress a 
flood of tears, as 1 stood as the foot of his bod jmd gazed 
silently upon him. In those eyes what living lustre had 
burned; and now. all their fire quenched, bow dull, 
vacant, fixed, and glazed those orbs. Thai face once 
-learned with health, was radiant with light; and now 
see bow vellow, wan. sunken, haggard. A day or two 
since that form, a model of manly vigor, moved in elastic 
beauty; and now there it lies, cold, frozen, stiffened. 
But what is this to the death of a soul ? a soul once the 
abode of God, instinct with celestial vitality, animated 
by spiritual joy and glory, and now deserted, dark, fallen, 
withered, dead. 

Nor is deatli a condition only of privation ; it .is 
a state of total and swiftly progressive corruption. 
There are degrees in life, but Liiere are none in death; 
that which dies is entirely dead. And no sooner has 
life been withdrawn from the body, than the principle of 
destruction, with a rapidity truly fearful, reduces to 
putrefaction all the strength and vigor which the more 
sluggish principle of growth had required years to con- 
struct. Hence, alienated from all vital contact with 
God, the soul is not only dead, but "dead in trespasses 
and sins." 

From this mournful condition we pass when Ave are 
converted to (uu\. We are then delivered from the 
power of darkness, and translated into the kingdom of 
God's dear Son. "You hath he quickened who were 
dead in trespasses and sins." And now can any enquiry 
he half so important to us as that which concerns this 
Biibject? Havel known this transformation? Havel 
passed from death unto life? Have [experienced the 
only change which attracts any notice in heaven, and 
compared with which all earthly transitions from poverty 



306 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

to wealth, from sickness to health, from a dunghill to a 
throne are really no sort of alterations in a man's condi- 
tion at all. 

Take another thought as to the importance of certainty 
upon this unspeakably interesting topic. I refer to the 
blessings which spring from assurance as to our being in 
a state of acceptance with God. 

There is not a mercy which does not become a thousand 
times sweeter, when I feel that it comes from my own 
Father. True, he loves me too well to give me my por- 
tion in such a world as this ; but he sends me these 
favors as tokens of his affection. On the other hand, 
if we have no evidence of our adoption, prosperity ought 
to awaken apprehensions lest we should be receiving our 
good things in this life. 

In trouble and adversity, assurance of faith is a bless- 
ing beyond all thought. My fortune, all my earthly 
possessions have departed ; but I know that I have treas- 
ures in heaven. Sorrow and anguish have laid hold 
upon me, the sun has gone down on my hearth and my heart ; 
and amidst shivered hopes and joys, I sit and mourn in 
bitterness of soul ; but I know that these afflictions are the 
chastenings of love, that they are sent and regulated by 
One who watches over me with more than a mothers 
devotion, and whose sympathies never yearn over me 
with such tender solicitude as when he is purifying me 
by sharp yet necessary discipline. In pining sickness to 
know that we are Christ's is medicine, it is a cordial, 
it is health. And what shall I say of a dying hour? 
How melancholy a spectacle is a Christian oppressed 
with fears and doubts in those last eventful moments. 
What peace, joy, holy triumphing is his who can then 
exultingly exclaim. "Iknovj thatmy Itedeemer liveth." 
" I know whom I have believed, and that he is able to 
keep that which I have committed unto him." " Even 
so, come Lord Jesus, come quickly." 

In all our approaches to God, the certainty of our 
having passed from condemnation to life will inspire the 
most delightful confidence. With this assurance, the 
child of God knows what it is to enter into his closet and 
shut the door behind him, and, falling on his knees, to 



Love to Christians an Evidence of Conversion. 307 



say " Abba Father." He looks at the promises of the 
Gospel, and feels that they are all yea and amen to him 
in Christ Jesus. He hears the awful threatenings of the 
law ; but they have no terror for him. " Who shall lay 
anything," he exclaims, "to the charge of God's elect? 
It is God that justifieth. Who is he that condemneth ? 
It is Christ that died, yea rather, that is risen again, who 
is even at the right hand of God, who also maketh 
intercession for us. Who shall separate us from the love 
of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or famine, or 
nakedness, or peril, or sword ? Nay, in all these things 
we are more than conquerors through him that hath loved 
us. For I am persuaded that neither death, nor life, 
nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things 
present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor 
any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the 
love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord." 

It is unnecessary for me to multiply arguments to 
prove the benefits derived from assurance as to our being 
in a state of salvation. Nothing will excite such lively 
gratitude ; for we cannot be thankful for mercies unless 
we are sure they are ours ; Ave cannot rejoice that our 
names are written in heaven, if we do not know it. No- 
thing will so effectually arm us against the snares and 
seductions of sin. Nothing will enlist all our powers for 
God with such a cheerful consecration ; for " the joy of 
the Lord is our strength ;" and it is as faith rises to full 
assurance, that joy springs up in our souls, that we wel- 
come duty, sacrifice, suffering for Jesus, that we exclaim, 
" The love of Christ constraineth us, because we thus 
judge that if one died for all, then were all dead, and that 
he died for all, that they which live should not hence- 
forth live unto themselves, but unto him that died for 
them and rose again." 

II. You see now the great importance of ascertaining 
that we have passed from a state of nature to a state of 
grace and salvation. It is to be feared that in a matter 
of such surpassing moment, too many rest upon some 
vague ground of hope which would not satisfy them as to 
their title to any earthly possessions. And thus they live 
on, singing lullabies to their consciences, until eternity 



308 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

shall open their e) r es to the most fatal of delusions. Or, 
if their religion be genuine, they forfeit all its strength- 
ening, sustaining, -purifying consolations. 

If, however, we are guilty of this deplorable folly, the 
Scriptures are not to blame. They not only admonish us 
to examine ourselves whether we be in the faith, to give 
all diligence to the full assurance of hope, but they fur- 
nish infallible tests by which we may determine what is 
our true condition before God. And it is to one of these 
criterions I ask you to give your attention in what re- 
mains of this discourse. 

" We know that we have passed from death unto life, 
because vie love the brethren." Affection for the children 
of God is then a certain evidence of our having passed 
from a state of spiritual death to a state of spiritual life; 
and I request you to examine this point with great care, 
because, while of all tests this seems the most direct and 
simple, it is really that upon which our deceitful hearts 
are most apt to mislead us. 

It is self-evident, for instance, that we may cherish 
strong attachments to the children of God because they 
sustain certain natural relations to us. There may be so- 
cial or domestic ties uniting us to them ; and piety will 
not impair, it will often elevate and strengthen these af- 
finities. The father or husband may have no love foi Je- 
sus, and yet the daughter or wife may become dearer to 
him as piety diffuses its graces over her life and character. 

Or a Christian may be naturally endowed with virtues 
and excellences which must win the esteem and friend- 
ship of men of the world. The young man who came to 
Jesus was not only not converted, but he w T as unwilling 
to be converted. Every human being is just as holy as 
he really intends to be; and just as much converted as 
he is willing to be. This young man "went away sor- 
rowful;" yet, such were his constitutional amiabilities 
that "Jesus beholding him, loved him.'' Now suppose 
one thus lovable to be regenerated and brought into the 
church ; it is plain that he might attract admiration and 
attachment, not for his new, spiritual, gracious attributes, 
but for those which he possessed in his unconverted con- 
dition. And so of other elements of character. The dis- 



Love to Christians an Evidence of Conversion. 309 



ciples of Christ are to cultivate those traits which are 
"lovely and of good report.'' ''Demetrius hath good re- 
port of all men, and of the truth." There arc virtues 
which the child of God pos in common with the 

members of society around him. Stern integrity, stain- 
less honor, benevolence, generosity, patriotism, disinter- 
estedness, devotedness in love and friendship— it Mere a 
libel to deny that un regenerate men may be endowed 
with these qualities. If piety be sincere it will exalt 
these virtues, and throw a peculiar charm over them. 
And if we esteem them very highly in children of the 
world, they must draw us towards the children of God. 

In these, and in similar cases, it is plain that our regard 
for the people of Christ is no sort of criterion as to our 
condition. The sentiment in our text is love for the 
children of God as such, and because they are such. It is 
a complacency, a delight in what is spiritual in their 
character; an affection called out by the graces of the 
Spirit seen in them, and terminating in these graces. 
And this attachment, let me say, must have all the marks 
of true, genuine love. 

It must be cordial. "As I have loved you, that ye 
also love one another.'' " See that ye love one another 
with a pure heart fervently." 

It must be sincere ; it is called " the unfeigned love of 
the brethren." To love " in word and in tongue " proves 
nothing but our own hypocrisy; it must be " in deed and 
in truth.'' 

The love indicated in the passage before us is an affec- 
tion for all who are Christ's. It is impossible to look 
around us and not feel that a great deal which goes by 
the name of love for Jesus and his people is nothing but 
party spirit. John saw "no temple in heaven." But if 
there be no sectarian church there, what will become of 
the zeal and piety of multitudes? — Humbling as it is, 
the fact must be' confessed, that when we examine the 
world called Christian, the most conspicuous feature in it 
is this wretched and deplorable party spirit; a temper 
which is a compound of ignorance, and superstition, and 
arrogance, and malice : which contracts and debases the 
mind; which empoisons and corrupts the heart, and 

13 * 



310 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

which yet affects peculiar sanctity and devotion. The 
sentiment which proves the soul to be regenerate rises 
above this selfish spirit. True, we cannot help cherish- 
ing the strongest attachment for those who most fully 
and nobly follow Jesus; hut, however we lament their 
errors, our love will go out to all as far as we discover in 
them the lineaments of the Gospel. 

I will only add, that this love must combine all the 
ingredients of a disinterested, ardent affection ; esteem — 
they are God's children, and though the world knows 
them not, they are honorable in his sight, and in oiu* 
judgment they will be the excellent of the earth; sincere 
desire for their welfare and happiness; pleasure in com- 
munion with them; sympathy in their sorrows and joys; 
forbearance toward their infirmities and errors. In short, 
like all true love, this friendship will assert its character 
by acts and offices of kindness, and by sacrifices when 
they are needed. " Hereby perceive we the love of God, 
because he laid down his life for us ; and we ought to lay 
down our lives for the brethren." 

III. If you have followed me, you perceive now what 
is the love of which the text speaks. I am mistaken if 
you have not begun, by this time, to feel another thing, 
to realize that this love is not quite so common as you 
had supposed it to be. When first proposed, this test of 
regeneration serves as an opiate ; for we quiet ourselves 
with some vague, natural partiality for certain traits 
which we have esteemed in certain pious members of 
society. But when this criterion is analyzed, we find 
that it is exceedingly searching in its nature; and we see, 
too, why it is so decisive as to our spiritual condition. 

For, taking only a general view of the matter, it is 
almost self-evident that this love, in its very principle 
and essence, is supernatural and divine. Observe the 
peculiar language of Peter. " Seeing that ye have puri- 
fied your souls in obeying the truth, through the Spirit, 
unto unfeigned love of the brethren." This love is, then, 
not natural ; it is a fruit of the Spirit; one of the most 
blessed ell'ects of his highest— his purifying influence in 
the obedient heart. Ponder, too, these words. " As 



Love to Christians an Evidence of Conversion. 311 

touching brotherly love, ye need not that I write unto 
you, for ye yourselves are taught of God to love one 
another;" and again, this remarkable passage — " Beloved 
let as love one another ; for love is of God ; and every one 
that loveth is born of God." 

These and similar declarations affirm that this love is 
wrought in the soul by God's own immediate tuition, and 
that it is the infallible proof of regeneration. It is a new 
union, springing from sources entirely above those rela- 
tions and motives which bind together the men of the 
world. It is a spiritual union, cemented by spiritual 
affinities. And it is a heavenly union ; to be perfected 
and perpetuated when all earthly ties shall have been 
forever dissolved. 

But let us look a little more closely and practically at 
the test proposed by the apostle, and we will see why it 
is so infallible as to our having passed from a state of 
condemnation to one of acceptance with God. 

That you may at once feel this, let me ask, why is it, 
in fact, that our hearts go out to those who are Christ's ? 
It is simply because we love Christ, because his truth, 
his church, his cause are dear to us. "Whatever artificial, 
superficial distinctions human pride and vanity may 
seek to erect, there are only two parties which divide 
all the members of society; and if we are Christians 
Ave have chosen our party, we are ranged unequivocally 
"on the Lord's side," and we rejoice in every accession 
of strength to his cause. As to the mass of mankind, 
we know they are not for Jesus. Whatever may be their 
seeming respect for religion (and we thank them for 
this,) they do not even profess to be the followers of the 
Redeemer, they have no real sympathy with that king- 
dom which he has set up on the earth, all the maxims, 
principles, the entire spirit of which are irreconcilably 
opposed to the lodged, rooted desires and purposes of the 
carnal heart. 1 have already said that they may possess 
many traits which attract our respect and admiration; 
but love for Jesus is no more an element in their virtues, 
than it is in their vices. 

When, then, any come out from the world and give 
their allegiance to the Saviour, we at once welcome them, 



312 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

our hearts go out to embrace and encourage them. They 
now occupy a new relation to that Being who is dearest 
to our souls. They love him, they have enlisted in his 
service. And it is because they are Christ's and have 
thus engaged in behalf of his cause, that they find a 
place in our affections. In this aspect, our love for those 
who are Christ's proves that we have passed from death 
unto life, because it is really love for Christ and zeal for 
his cause. 

Another view of this sentiment is, if possible, still 
more conclusive. I mean that in which we regard it as 
an attachment for the image of God which we discover 
in his children. It is true, that in the sincerest Chris- 
tians there will still be defects, and we cannot love their 
imperfections and blemishes. But if they are born of 
God, they, of course, bear some resemblance to him ; and, 
however dimmed or marred the lineaments, if we love 
God we will love his likeness. We are never to propose 
any human model as our example. We have only one 
pattern. In running the race set before us, it is a thought 
full of sublimity and inspiration, that " we are compassed 
about by a cloud of witnesses." But we are not to be 
looking at them. The cloud is dark in itself, and owes 
all its brightness to the sun. It is upon that sun our 
gaze is to be fixed. " Let us run with patience the race 
set before us looking unto Jesus.''' Still, wherever we 
discern the features of God's character, our affections 
will be instinctively drawn to them. We will love the 
image of God ; and this, let me say, upon whatever metal 
that image is engraved, whether precious or base, and 
whether it be cut in ivory or in ebony. Nothing can be 
more simple and decisive than this reasoning. It is that, 
if we love God, his moral likeness will be dear to us; and 
if his moral likeness seen in our brethren, be dear to us, 
it settles the point that we love God; and " every one 
that loveth is born of God, ami knoweth God." 

One other d jmonstration from this affection is supplied 
from the words of the text. It is love for " the brethren" 
■■—an attachment for those who belong to the same 
spiritual household. If God were only our creator, we 
might admire those who nobly forsake the ranks of his 



Love to Christians an Evid mce of Conversion. 313 



enemies and identify themselves with liis truth and 
honor; we mighl esteem and love them, as we will love 
angels, for those attributes in which they resemble the 
Creator. But there would be no family attachment. 
God is more than our creator. All Christians sustain to 
him the dearest and tenderest filial relations. He is a 
paternal Deity. Of all the titles which he wears, the 
most endearing is that of Father. In teaching us how 
to pray, Jesus commences with this great, eunobling, 
purifying, rejoicing truth, that God is "our Father." 
He thus recognizes and reminds us of the heavenly ties 
which bind us together as members of God's family. 
But this union of hearts on account of our affinity to our 
common Father, proves, of course, that we are the 
children of God, and "have passed from death unto 
life." 

The propositions thus indicated have been submitted, 
not to establish the affirmation in the text, which rests 
upon God's testimony, but simply to manifest the truth 
to your consciences. And there are several other passages 
in the sacred oracles which bear so closely upon the same 
point, that 1 wish I had time to dwell upon them. — 
" Every one that loveth him that begat, loveth him also 
that is begotten." Here love for the children is inferred 
from love for the Father. And the converse is also im- 
plied. I mean that love to the Father may be inferred 
from love to the children. " But whoso hath this world's 
goods and seeth his brother have need, and shutteth up 
his bowels of compassion from him, how dwelleth the 
love" (it is not said, of his brother, but) "of God in him?" 
Here affection for the children and the parent is reerar led 
as the same sentiment; and it is taken for granted that 
without active love for the former all our professions of 
love for the latter are glaring hypocrisy. " If a man say, 
I love God, and hate his brother, he is a liar; for he that 
loveth not his brother whom he hath seen, how cm he 
love God whom he hath not seen:"' That is to say, if 
the image of God rendered visible, brought near in one of 
his children has no charms i'^v von. it is a palpabl 
hood to pretend that you love thai image vvh ill invisi 
"By this we know that we love the children of God, 



314 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

when we love God and keep his commandments." In 
the former case, a man professed to love God, while he 
had no love for his children ; here one pretends that he 
loves the children of God, when he has no love for God. 
In these and other portions of the Scriptures, the senti- 
ment of which I have been discoursing is assumed to be 
a new and heavenly grace. Indeed in that inventory of 
spiritual virtues which Peter enumerates, and which are 
not independent graces clustered together, but graces 
growing out of each other, "brotherly kindness" is the 
immediate fruit of " godliness." "And to godliness, bro- 
therly kindness." There is an indefeasible connection 
between the two. If we truly love God, we love the breth- 
ren. If we truiy love the brethren, we love God. And 
if we love God, we are his children; "and if children, 
then heirs, heirs of God and joint heirs with Jesus Christ." 

Men and brethren, the subject of our meditations this 
morning is of unspeakable moment to us all. You can- 
not read the New Testament without feeling that friend- 
ship for each other is called "a new commandment," be- 
cause it was an unique style of love — an affection which 
for disinterestedness, for comprehensiveness, for consider- 
ateness, for tenderness, for confidence and kindness in 
spite of ingratitude and unworthiness — was something 
historically, ethically new. Let us therefore prize and 
nourish this love. The enemies of God and man are ever 
seeking to embitter Christians against each other; but 
let us yield to almost any artifice of the devil rather than 
this. 

If love for those who are Christ's be so infallible a cri- 
terion of our piety, it is of everlasting importance that 
we examine whether this grace has been implanted in us 
by the Holy Spirit. Recall the admonitions you have 
heard to-day as to the danger of self-deception upon this 
point. Recollect that we may be strongly attached to 
the people of God on account of our natural relations to 
them; and that Christians may be regarded with esteem 
and affection for at tributes which they possess in com- 
mon with men of the world. Do we love them as Chris- 
tians because they are Christians, and for qualities which 
are spiritual and heavenly? If they are thus dear to us, 



Love to Christians an Evidence of Conversion. 315 

"we know that we have passed from death unto life." — 
But it' not, the converse is equally certain, and we know 
that we have not passed from death unto life; we have 
experienced no spiritual change ; we do not love Jesus 
and his cause, nor is the love of God in us. No matter 
what the consistency of our outward life, we are in a state 
of impenitence and condemnation. "In this the children 
of God are manifest and the children of the devil ; who- 
soever doe th not righteousness is not of God, neither he 
that loveth not his brother." "He that loveth not his 
brother abideth in death." Abideth in death — terrible 
thought! He lives, moves, has his being, eats, drinks, 
sleeps in death. go, go into the graveyard yonder, 
open some charnel vault, take to your arms any mass of 
bine and reeking putrefaction there, and say "to corrup- 
tion, Thou art my father, to the worm, Thou art my mo- 
ther and my sister;" but stay not, I charge you, stay not 
another moment with this dreadful doom upon you. — 
Abiding in death! — the death of trespasses and sins; 
your guilt and corruption gathering and spreading, and 
your soul rapidly hastening to the second, the eternal 
death. 

" We know that we have passed from death unto life, 
because we love the brethren." Let this "brotherly love 
continue." " The Lord make you to increase and to 
abound in love one to another." The more we reflect up- 
on the design of the Kedeemer in calling a church out 
from the world, the more we shall feel that he intended 
us to cultivate this mutual affection ; not only to love, 
but to love each other as he loved us. Our common du- 
ties, trials, conflicts, hopes, joys, — above all, the Cross 
around which our souls cling together — these summon 
us to step out of the narrow circle in which we are prone 
to shut ourselves up, and to open our souls to all who 
"love our Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity." It is by this 
love that the world is to know that we are the disciples 
of Christ, and that we are to win the most illustrious 
victories. Not to love each other is to violate a command 
as sacred as any in the decalogue. " This commandment 
have we from him, that he who loveth God love his bro- 
ther also." Nay, it is to despise and to trample under 



316 



Richard Fuller's Sermons. 



foot that precept which ought to be dearer to ns, more 
inviolably dear than the whole of the ten commandments, 
the precept which Jesns bequeathed to us with his last 
breath, which he has left written in his own tears and 
blood: "A new commandment I give unto you, that ye 
love one another; as I have loved you, that ye also love 
one another." 

God, the uncreated, absolute essential Love; Jesus, 
incarnate, suffering, bleeding, dying, risen, ascended, glo- 
rified Love; Holy Spirit, author and giver of Love; — 
inspire us more and more with this celestial grace; that 
we may "be made perfect in love;" and may thus know 
that we have now passed from death unto life, and that 
soon we shall pass to glory, honor and immortality be- 
yond the skies. God grant us this unspeakable blessing. 
To him be glory forever. Ame^. 




( 'h r ist o u r Passover. 317 



Srvmou Scfcrutreutti- 



CHRIST OUR PASSOVER. 

[preached before administering the lord's supper.] 
"For even Christ our passover is sacrificed for us." — I Cor. v: 7. 

THE atonement — the vicarious sufferings of the Re- 
deemer — is the great central truth in the Gospel 
system. To deny this doctrine is not to misunderstand, 
but to reject the revelation which God has given to man. 
The more close!} 7 we study the Scriptures, the more 
clearly will we discover their divine harmony. They 
resemble a model of architecture in which all the mem- 
bers are in perfect symmetry; or rather anarch which is 
supported by the mutual dependence and accurate pro- 
portion of all the parts. And of that divine architecture 
the atonement is the foundation. Of that arch it is the 
keystone. Discard this doctrine and what becomes of 
the harmony of the divine perfections in the salvation of 
sinners? what is the meaning of all those passages in 
the sacred volume which so emphatically assert the utter 
insufficiency of man's righteousness, and which are so 
interwoven with the entire body of revealed truth, that to 
get rid of them we must rend the whole Bible in pieces? 
In a word, blot out this "faithful saying,'' and the exult- 
ing rapture of patriarchs, prophets, apostles in view of the 
amazing love of God in the gift of his Son is simply so 
much distempered enthusiasm ; the motives to love, confi- 
dence, adoration which glow in the Christian's bosom, the 
glorious hopes and aspirations which cause his heart to 
burn within him, are a sheer, foolish delusion ; the 
worship rendered to Jesus in heaven is. blasphemy ; all 
which constitutes the Gospel is forever gone, and a cold, 



318 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

heartless theology — a religion which is no Gospel — 
mocks the deepest wants of the soul and plunges us into 
an abyss of darkness and despair. 

This great fundamental doctrine it is not necessary for 
me to establish, standing where I now do. I thank God 
that you not only know its certainty, but rejoice in its 
celestial consolations. I design simply to offer you a 
commentary on our text, in which, as you perceive, the 
sacrifice of Calvary is taken for granted, and is illustra- 
ted by a most significant emblem — the paschal lamb. 

I. The occasion of the Passover you all remember, and 
never in all the annals of human anguish, was there a 
more appalling tragedy. 

By nine successive judgments had Jehovah warned 
Pharaoh and the nation who, as we are expressly in- 
formed,* participated in bis cruelty, and commanded 
them to let the children of Israel depart; but under all 
these fearful experiments they hardened themselves more 
and more. Then came a blow which cleft the heart of 
that guilty people, and caused all to grow pale and stand 
aghast — from the monarch to the humblest of his sub- 
jects. The judgments sent upon nations, generally have 
a close connection with their sins,— are the recoil of their 
crimes. Pharaoh and his minions had slain the first-born 
sons of the Israelites, and now all through a whole night 
of horrors the destroying angel sweeps onward over the 
land, the thunder of his wings resounding through the 
troubled darkness, his eye of fire striking dismay into 
the stoutest spirits, and his flaming sword shedding 
death at every stroke. Nor let any one ask, how it can 
be just that the transgressions of the fathers should be 
visited upon their offspring? The answer to that ques- 
tion I leave with God. That children do suffer for the 
iniquities of their parents is not only a doctrine of the 
Bible, but a fact under our own observation. If by vice 
a parent poisons his blood with disease, the virus 
is transmitted to his descendants. If he be convicted of 
felony, the disgrace is entailed upon his posterity. When, 
then, God smites the first-born of Egypt, let us not 



* 1 Samuel vi : G. 



Christ our Passover. 319 

foolishly arraign his justice; let us know that the Judge 
of all the earth must do right; and let us tremble at the 
thought of siu, when we find him seeking to warn us of 
its hdnousness by such an appeal to our deepest and 
tenderest affections. 

But while, from the palace to the hut of the beggar, 
the houses of this guilty people are thus scenes of unut- 
terable woe; while shriek after shriek pierces and shat- 
ters the silence of night ; while the terror which sends a 
mortal agony into every soul is the more crushing be- 
cause the desolating strokes are so mysterious, and none 
can see whence they come, none can guard against that 
which they cannot see, none can know where they will 
next fall; — behold Israel dwells in perfect safety. A 
thousand fall at their side and ten thousand at their 
right hand, but harm comes not near them. And this 
security is not on account of any merit in them, but 
because blood is sprinkled upon the doors of their houses. 
God commanded them to slay a lamb for each family, to 
take of the blood and strike it upon the two side posts 
and on the upper door posts of their houses. "And the blood 
shall be to you for a token upon the houses where ye are ; 
and when I see the blood, I will pass over you, and the 
plague shall not be upon you to destroy you, when I 
smite the land of Egypt." 

II. Such was the institution of the Passover. In the 
text and elsewhere the Holy Spirit declares that the pas- 
chal lamb was a significant type of that adorable Victim 
who bled on Calvary. Let us then look at this symbol 
and the lessons it teaches us. 

Now certainly I should not unfold all the allegorical 
import of the passage before us, if I made no reference 
to the lxedeemer's personal character. In the Old and 
New Testaments, as in all sacred and profane literature, 
a lamb is the emblem of innocence and meekness; and in 
Jesus we find a perfect incarnation of these qualities. 

The paschal lamb was to be " without blemish ;" and 
Jesus was " lioly, harmless, nndefiled, and separate from 
sinners.'' For though he was " made m the likeness of 
men, it was only in "the likeness of sinful flesh;" his 



320 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

preternatural conception rescuing him from the lineal 
taint of depravity. When announcing to Mary the mys- 
terious birth for which she was to be honored above all 
•women, the angel thus addressed her: "The HolyGhost 
shall come upon thee, and the power of the Highest shall 
overshadow thee : therefore also that holy thing which 
shall be born of thee shall be called the Son oi' God." — 
In all his life he could confidently challenge the scrutiny 
of his enemies, saying, "Which of you convinceth me of 
sin?" and the Tempter, he affirmed, could find nothing 
in him. "Such an high priest became us;" foi unless 
perfectly innocent, he. could not have ottered himself for 
us; he would have required sacrifices for himself; 
nor would lie have left us an example that in all tilings 
we should imitate him. 

The lamb, as I remarked, is also the emblem of meek- 
ness, and to this feature of the Saviour's character Isaiah 
refers in those touching words, "He was oppressed and 
he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth; he is 
brought as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep be- 
fore her shearers is dumb, so he opened not his mouth." 
Well might the apostle say, "1 beseech you by the gen- 
tleness of Christ ;"and our souls at once respond to that 
touching self-assertion. "I am meek and lowly in heart." 
For during all the stern vicissitudes of his weary pilgrim- 
age on earth, how sweetly submissive is he to his Father's 
will. When spit upon, smitten by cruel blows, and 
nailed to the cross, with what majestic patience does he 
bear the storm of insult and derision heaped upon him; 
with what divine compassion does he lift his eyes to 
heaven for the murderers whose hands were red with his 
blood, whose mouths were dripping with insults and ex- 
ecrations. 

But I will not dwell upon this view of the figure in the 
text, because the inspired writers insist upon it with 
comparatively Little emphasis. Those who maintain that 
it is the example of Jesus which the Scriptures propose, 
strangely pervert the Bible. Was the paschal lamb slain 
as an example? Was Israel saved on that fearful night 
by copying an example? The paschal lamb was set apart 
as-a propitiatory sacrifice for the sins o[' men. By its blood 



( lirist our Passover. 321 

the people were rescued. And Jesus is the "Lamb of 

GrOll who taketh away the sin of t lie world." "We arc 

redeemed by the precious blood of Christ as of a lamb 
without blemish and without spot, who verily was fore- 
ordained before the foundation of the world." And in 
heaven the ransomed fall down before the Lamb, singing 
a new song, saying, " Thou wast slain, and thou hast re- 
deemed us to God by thy blood, out of every kindred and 
tongue, and people and nation, and hast made us unto 
our God kings and priests." 

From the other plagues sent upon the Egyptians it is 
remarkable that the Jews were preserved without any 
prescribed expedient. On that terrible night, however, 
there was salvation only by a specific provision, by the 
sprinkling of the Iamb's blood. '-The blood shall be to 
you for a token." It is to this phenomenon the apostle 
refers, when he says that Christ our passover is sacrificed 
for us." And now observe the striking analogy between 
the salvation wrought upon the banks of the Nile and 
that finished upon .Mount Calvary. 

First, (bnl said of the Passover,"It is anight to be much 
observed unto the Lord for bringing them out from the 
land of Egypt; this is that night of the Lord to be 
observed ot all the children of Israel in their genera- 
tions." And in gratitude, love, adoration should we 
commemorate the sacrifice of the cross, as the miracle of 
grace and power by which a far greater deliverance was 
achieved for us. Bowed down beneath a yoke heavier 
than that of Pharaoh, enslaved by Satan, bound hand 
and foot by our corruptions — such was our condition. 
From this we are emancipated by the glorious victim im- 
molated on Calvary. The yoke is broken and we, like 
Israel, are marching onwards to the promised land, 
guided by God's own presence, guarded by his own right 
hand ami strctched-out arm. 

Someone may ask, Why, if God loved us and resolved 
to save us, was the atonement indispensable? I answer 
by proposing another question, Tell me, my friend, 
would it have been quite prudent in a Jew to neglect the 
simple requirement of Jehovah and amuse himself with 
such speculations? Suppose, while the night was draw- 



322 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

ing on and his brethren were sprinkling the blood upon 
their doors, he had refused to obey the command, and 
quieted himself by saying, If we are dear to Jehovah he 
will not allow us to perish, he has hitherto delivered us 
without this useless blood, and he will now deliver us. 
Equally foolish and impious are all human cavils as to 
the necessity of the vicarious death of Jesus. Enlight- 
ened reason tells me, indeed, that it was only by such an 
interposition God could be just and justify the ungodly 
— could be a "just God and a Saviour." But I rest the 
matter where the Bible rests it, — upon the sovereign 
pleasure of Jehovah. He appointed the strange unique 
sacrifice for that fearful night; and for the night of 
fierce and terrible vengeance rushing upon this guilty 
world he has provided the method of deliverance. "For 
all have sinned and come short of the glory of God. 
Being justified freely by his grace, through the redemp 
tion that is in Christ Jesus, whom God hath set forth to 
be a propitiation through faith in his blood." 

The Israelite had nothing to do with the philosophy of 
his salvation. Enough for him that the blood would 
cause the destroyer to pass over his habitation. And so 
the question for you and me is, not about the reasonable- 
ness, but about the truth of the heavenly proclamation. 
The cavils sometimes uttered against the doctrine of the 
Cross can, of course, possess no intrinsic force, since it is 
impossible for any finite intellect to comprehend this 
adorable "mystery of godliness;" and to a devout mind 
there is a sublimity, a glory in the inspired announce- 
ment of this great truth which at once rebuke the shal- 
low flippancies of the infidel and the scoffer. 

If a Hebrew had neglected to mark his house 
with blood, nothing — no prayers, vows, eminence for 
zeal and piety — could have rescued him. If Moses or 
Aaron had been found without this token, he would 
have perished. And so as to the blood of Christ. In 
fact, let the substitution of such a Being be admitted as 
a Scripture truth, and we feel, at once, that it must be 
the only ground of salvation ; the very thought of com- 
bining the imperfections of human merit with the work 
of the " Brightness of the Father's glory " shocks us as 



Christ our Passover, 323 

the height of folly and imriety. The atonement by 
Jesus is a complete satisfaction to the justice of God ; 
" Neither is there salvation in any other, for there is no 
other name under heaven given among men, whereby 
we must be saved." Nothing is left for man but, with 
a penitential faith and lively gratitude, to embrace this 
great salvation. " God so loved the world that he gave 
his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him 
should not perish, but have everlasting life." " He that 
believeth on the Son hath everlasting life, and he that 
believeth not the Son, shall not see life, but the wrath of 
God abideth on him." "The blood shall be to you for 
a token." While the strong-winged angel of death was 
sweeping through the land of Egypt, there was but a 
single shelter. The Israelite must abide in the house 
sprinkled with blood. And, from first to last, our only 
hope is in the blood of Jesus. If we are pardoned, 
it is by his blood ; " In whom we have redemption 
through his blood, the forgiveness of sins according 
to the riches of his grace." If we are justified, it 
is by his blood ; " Being now justified by his blood, we 
shall be saved from wrath through him." If we are 
sanctified, it is by his blood ; " Jesus also, that he might 
sanctify the people with his own blood, suffered without 
the gate." If we are redeemed, it is by his blood ; "Thou 
hast redeemed us to God by thy blood." "Ye were not 
redeemed with corruptible things as silver and gold, but 
with the precious blood of Christ, as of a lamb with- 
out blemish, and without spot." If we are brought 
into communion with God, it is by his blood. "Ye 
who sometimes were far off are made nigh by the 
blood of Christ." If we have constant access, in delight- 
ful confidence, to the Father, it is by his blood. " Having 
therefore, brethren, boldness to enter into the holiest by 
the blood of Jesus, let us draw near with a true heart in 
full assurance of faith." Jf we triumph over our spirit- 
ual enemies, it is by his blood; " They overcame by the 
blood of the Lamb." If our robes are ever made white, 
it must be by blood; "These are they which came out 
of great tribulation, and have washed their robes and 
made them white in the blood of the Lamb." In short, 
over the entire earth, wherever fallen humanity is dif- 



324 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

fused, "without shedding of blood there is no remission ;" 
and over the whole heaven, wherever glorified humanity 
is found, the hosanna which fills the golden atmosphere 
is this, "Unto him who hath loved us, and washed us 
from our sins in his own blood, and hath made us kings 
and priests unto God and his Father, to him be glory and 
dominion forever and ever. Amen." 

You see then the first striking resemblance between 
the Passover and the atonement by Jesus, and that the 
great deliverance in each case was, and is, entirely by 
blood. But now, while the paschal blood thus sheltered 
the people of Israel, it is evident that there was no in- 
herent virtue in the blood itself. A child perceives that 
between the staining of a door with the blood of a lamb, 
and the delivery from the torrible vengeance shed fast 
and far through the hind there was no natural connec- 
tion, no such relation as that of physical cause and effect. 
The Hebrew was safe only because God had appointed 
the blood as a token. And in this fact we find a second 
truth as to the great atonement. 

There is no natural relation between the tragical scene 
upon Calvary and our salvation; the connection is en- 
tirely moral, and the efficacy of the sacrifice is owing to 
the sovereign will and appointment of the Deity. Hence 
the blood of the cross is styled "the blood of the cov- 
enant." Whether on that eventful night any Israelite 
should be passed over, and by what interposition, rested 
with the sovereign Governor of the universe; and just so 
as to the adorable substitution in our behalf. None but 
the supreme Moral Ruler could dispense with the penal- 
ty of the law and lay our iniquities upon another. We 
are saved "through the redemption that is in Christ Je- 
sus, whom God hath set forth to be a propitiation through 
faith in his blood." The Scriptures everywhere ascribe 
the scheme of redemption to the wisdom of the Infinite 
Mind, to the counsels of eternal wisdom and love. Je- 
sus is "the Lamb of God" — the victim provided by God. 
He is the "Lamb foreordained before the foundation of 
the world ;" "the Lamb slain before the foundation of 
the world." lie "gave himself for our sins, according 
to the will of God and our Father." "In this was mani- 



Christ our Passover. . -325 

fested the love of God toward us, because that God sent - 
his only begotten Son into the world, that we might have 
life through him." "Herein is love, not that we loved 
God, but that he loved us, and sent his Son to be the 
propitiation for our sins." 

The third truth suggested by the emblem in the text 
has reference to our agency in the salvation provided by 
the Gospel; and it is this — that, though Jesus has fin- 
ished a fall atonement for sin, we can derive no benefit 
unless that atonement be cordially accepted by us. 

Suppose an Israelite had slain his lamb, but refused or 
neglected to sprinkle the blood upon his house; he would 
have been destroyed ; nor would any plea have availed 
him. And we are constantly admonished by the in- 
spired writers that this is true as to the salvation of the 
Gospel. 

Vainly as to us did Jesus stoop to earth, and clothe 
himself in mortal flesh, and become obedient unto death 
even the death of the cross, if his blood be not applied 
to our souls. Abundant, redundant is the efficacy of 
that imperial atonement; but it is only for those who 
open their hearts to the great doctrine and humbly ac- 
cept the great salvation. If you ask me, what is the 
act, on our part, which corresponds to the sprinkling of 
blood upon the door of the house, the sacred oracles 
tell you that it is faith, faith in Jesus. " Believe in the 
Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved." " Through 
faith he kept the passover and the sprinkling of blood, 
lest he that destroyed the first-born should touch them." 
" Whom God hath set forth to be a propitiation through 
faith in his blood." 

If you require me to be more explicit and define this 
faith, I point you to the conduct of the Hebrew on that 
awful night. Tell me, who would mark his dwelling 
with the blood? Would it be the man who did not 
firmly believe all that Jehovah had declared, but said, 
There is no danger ; or, if there be, I shall escape with- 
out any such precaution? No. It would be he who 
was persuaded that all which the Lord had threatened 
and promised he would most surely perform, and who, 
submitting his reason to the divine veracity, was willing 

14 



326 -Richard Fuller's Sermons. 



to take Gol at his word, and to adore the grace which so' 
mercifully provided a way of escape. And, now, this is 
the very faith by which we are saved. As an evidence 
of Abraham's faith it is said, " Being not weak in faith, 
he considered not." He dismissed from his thoughts all 
the suggestions of mere sense and. reason. Saving faith 
is a firm belief in the solemn warnings of the Bible as 
to the destruction one day to overwhelm a guilty world; 
a flying for refuge to the hope set before us in the Gos- 
pel ; a deep conviction of sin and helplessness ; and a re- 
posing the soul, with all its concerns, upon the atone- 
ment as the heaven-ordained, and, therefore, immovable 
foundation of safety. 

1 have time to mention only one other lesson, and a les- 
son of unspeakable blessedness conveyed by this emblem of 
the Passover. I mean the perfect security of all who 
receive the great salvation achieved by the sufferings of 
the Lamb of God. 

Come with me a moment, and let us look at the houses 
of these Egyptians. First, observe this magnificent 
structure, so vast in its proportions, and adorned with 
such splendors of architectural glory. It is the royal 
palace. Then, those imposing mansions, almost rivalling 
the palace in ample dimensions, in wealth of grandeur 
and beauty. They are the castles of the princes and 
nobles, or the abodes of men illustrious for genius, 
learning, wide domains, deeds of exalted patriotism, or 
heroic achievements in arms. Turning from these aristo- 
cratic edifices, cast your eye over the diversified, crowded 
dwellings of the teeming population. Not one of these 
homes but shall this night be converted into a tomb, an 
Abel-Mizraim resounding with bitter cries and 1 amenta 
tions. 

Having thus surveyed these abodes, visit a very differ- 
ent class of dwellings. They are in the suburbs, the 
proscribed purlieus of the cities and villages. In ap- 
pearance they are utterly mean, the hovels of bondsmen; 
and, moreover, in the sight of God, their inmates are sin- 
ners justly deserving the same doom which is about to 
descend upon the Egyptians. Yet not near one of these 
humble cabins shall the flaming sword approach. 



Christ our Passover, 327 

No doubt in the midst of tlio.se dismal scenes which 
caused the night to appear as il* it were an age, the 
tenants of these obscure roofs were agitated by con- 
flicting emotions. One, as he hears the shrieks rending 
the air, exclaims, " God be merciful to me a sinner, I am 
lost; the blood may do for others, but I am undone; my 
conscience tells me I can look for nothing except fiery 
indignation to consume me and my house." Another 
cries, "Ah, the blood has efficacy; it is, however, only 
for those who have a strong faith. For me, my faith is 
gone; Lord, I believe, help thou mine unbelief." A 
third falls in terror on his face, and with promises, and 
vows, and tears, supplicates the divine mercy; "Oh, 
spare me, and the remnant of my days shall be devoted 
to thy service." While a fourth rises above these un- 
worthy fears, and, strong in faith, staggers not but gives 
glory to God. He looks neither at his past, nor present, 
nor future life, but simply at the blood and God's prom- 
ise made to that blood. " There it is. I, therefore, will 
not, — I cannot be alarmed. God is my refuge and 
strength, a very present help in time of trouble, there- 
fore will not I fear though a thousand messengers of 
death should desolate every hearth around me and 
drench the land in blood." Such may be the different 
feelings of the Israelites; but whatever their emotions, 
they are safe for all that. It is not their fears and 
doubts and lamentations that are going to destroy them; 
nor is it their peace and joy which are going to save 
them. They are spared because the blood is on the 
door. Upon that, not upon them, the minister of ven- 
geance looks and passes them over. 

And now all this finds its exact analogy in our salva- 
tion through the blood of Christ. Christians are called 
"God's house," "God's building." They may be and 
generally are humble and obscure in their position. 
"Ye see your calling, brethren, how that not many wise 
men after the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble 
are called; but God hath chosen the foolish things of 
the world to confound the wise; and God hath chosen 
the weak things of the world to confound the things 
which are mighty, and base things of the world, and 



328 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

things which are despised hath God chosen, yea, and 
things which are not, to bring to nought tilings that are, 
that no flesh should glory in his presence." In God's 
presence now, and in his presence at the day of judg- 
ment, the Christian can glory in nothing that lie is or 
has done. He glories, and through eternity will glory 
only in the cross of Christ. It is this which distin- 
guishes him from all other men, from the most moral as 
widely as from the most vicious — this, that his only con- 
fidence is in a crucified Bedeemer. Guilty, self-con- 
demned, confessing his utter and unutterable unworthi- 
ness, he points to the blood of Jesus as the token for his 
salvation, and rests all his hope upon its efficacy to blot 
out the sentence of sin against him, and to subdue the 
power of sin within him. 

At times, especially as he thinks of death, he may be 
oppressed by misgivings and apprehensions. He may 
write bitter things against himself, and fear that his re- 
pentance, faith, hope are not genuine. The consciousness 
of his remaining corruptions, the remembrance of his 
unfaithfulness, the sense of weakness may tempt him to 
despair; but, when ceasing to take counsel in his own 
heart and to find sorrow in such legal thoughts — he 
turns to the cross, " the blood is for a token to him. 79 
Suppose on that frightful night a Hebrew, deploring his 
sin, had exclaimed, "No, this blood cannot save me." 
And suppose some one had said to him, " Well, go and 
wash it off then." What would have been his feelings ? 
With what dismay and horror would he not have re- 
volted at the very thought. Just so with the believer in 
Jesus. Gloomy he may be; cast down by fears, doubts, 
spiritual depression ; but for worlds would he not give 
up his hope in the precious blood of the atonement. 

Yes, they are safe, forever safe, to whose souls that 
blood has been applied. "Go through the midst of the 
city and smite; let not your eye spare, neither have ye 
pity, but come not near any man on whom is the mark ;" 
— such was the command when the slaughtering weapon 
was about to flash like lightning through the doomed 
city; and snch is now the irrevocable proclamation of 
heaven. I know there are those who deny tae divinity 



Christ our Passover. 329 

of the Redeemer, and, of course, they have no faith in 
his piacular sacrifice ; but no one who receives this glor- 
ious truth can doubt the imperial efficacy of such an 
amazing substitution. The conviction is instinctive and 
irresistible, that nothing less than a full and perfect 
satisfaction to the claims of eternal justice could be the 
result of the incarnation and death of the Son of God. 
And, fixing our adoring faith upon the cross, we 
triumphantly exclaim, " The blood of Jesus Christ, his 
Son cleanseth us from all sin ;" '•' Whom he justified, 
them also he glorified;" "God commendeth his love 
toward us in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died 
for us; much more, then, being justified by his blood, 
we shall be saved from wrath through him. For, if 
when we were enemies we were reconciled to God by the 
death of his Son, much more, being reconciled, we shall 
be saved by his life." 

In conclusion let me ask each of you whether this 
blood is upon your door as a token for you ? Have you, 
under a deep sense of sin, and in view of the wrath to 
come, received a crucified Jesus into your heart, and 
committed your soul to his keeping ? He is" the Lamb 
of God," God's Lamb. The Supreme Authority has 
provided and offered the magnificent victim. All that 
he requires is that, — ceasing to insult him, and to insure 
your own perdition by seeking any other medium of 
salvation — you accept the inestimable donation, and 
yield your hearts and lives to the influence of that grati- 
tude and loyalty which such a sacrifice for you ought 
naturally to inspire. 

Some, alas, too many of you have long been careless, 
in spite of all our tears and entreaties. My dear hear- 
ers, what is to become of you? How shall you escape if 
you neglect so great salvation? Delude yourselves no 
more with insidious self-flattery that you respect reli- 
gion and hope and intend, one day, to be Christians. 
All this is only as if an Israelite had omitted to sprinkle 
the door, and quieted his fears by persuading himself 
that he respected the blood and purposed, at some future 
day, to obey the voice of God. 



330 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

Recollect that the Passover had a significance for some 
others besides the people of God. It was a terrible token 
to Pharaoh. It sealed him over to destruction. And if 
yon perish, it will not be because you have sinned, but be- 
cause you have no faith in the blood of Christ; because 
year after year, and now again this day, when we com- 
memorate that most astonishiug and touching deed of 
love, you treat with contempt the propitiation which God 
has provided at such an expense. " He that despised 
Moses' law died without mercy under two or three wit- 
nesses; of how much sorer punishment, suppose ye, shall 
he be thought worthy, who hath trodden under foot the 
Son of God and hath counted the blood of the covenant 
an unholy thing ?" If God threatens, it is that he wills 
not your death ; it is that fear may effect a breach in 
your heart through which faith and love may gain en- 
trance. Your condemnation will be your own choice. — 
God is mercifully and loudly calling, entreating all to 
embrace the salvation he freely offers. If then, the com- 
ing tempest of vengeance fall upon you,, it will be all your 
own unbelief and obstinacy. 

Christians, how delightful to contemplate such a sal- 
vation and feel that it is yours, yours indefeasibly and 
forever. You can say, " Christ, my passover, is sacrificed 
for me" Here is a spectacle which may well absorb all 
the immortal capacities of our minds, and inflame the 
most ardent passions of our souls. Here, with the angels, 
we may expatiate upon the wonders of that masterpiece 
of wisdom, power and goodness which finds no parallel 
in the whole moral universe. Here we may lose ourselves 
in the heights and depths of a love which passeth know- 
ledge ; may admire and adore the harmony of all the di- 
vine perfections ; may exult in the full assurance that all 
our sins shall be passed over, that our security is beyond 
the reach of earth or hell, and that abundant provision 
has been made for all our wants. " He that spared not 
his own Son, but delivered him up for us all, how shall 
he not with him also freely give us all things ?" 

This morning we are going to receive the emblems 
which remind us of the adorable victim who poured out 
his soul unto death for our sins. After the paschal lamb 



Christ our Passover, 331 

had been slain, the Israelites were commanded to roasl 
the flesh and to eat it. Through blood and fire the sacri- 
fice must pass before it could become food; and by what 
a terrible ordeal of blood and fiery wrath was our Pass- 
over consecrated that we might feed on him by faith. — 
Let us eat this Passover with gratitude, with the blood 
of Christ warm in our hearts, with a confidence and love 
blooming afresh in our souls. Let us eat it, remember- 
ing the ties which are created by this blood. Now, at 
least, let us recall those words uttered when the supper 
was instituted. "A new commandment give I unto you, 
that ye love one another; as I have loved you that ye also 
]ove one another." Whatever differences of opinions or 
feelings may lyive existed among the Israelites, all were 
forgotten when they sat down to a repast vividly recall- 
ing their common danger and such a deliverance. Let us 
banish from this scene all bitterness, wrath, anger, mal- 
ice, strife ; forgiving one another, even as God for Christ's 
sake hath forgiven us; and let us keep the feast, not with 
the old leaven, but with the new leaven of sincerity, 
truth, forbearance, brotherly kindness and charity. Let 
us partake of this supper with joy. Trouble and sorrow 
may come upon us, and all may seem dark and pitchy as 
that night which settled upon Egypt; but the blood is 
there, and blood is God's own oath and pledge to me. — 
Although my house be not so with God ; although my 
purposes be broken off, my prospects blighted, my hopes 
and affections withered, and my skies hung in sackcloth, 
yet hath he made with me an everlasting covenant, or- 
dered in all things and sure. Lastly, in receiving these 
symbols of the flesh and blood of him " who gave himself 
for us that he might redeem us from all iniquity, and 
purify unto himself a peculiar people zealous of good 
works " — let us yield ourselves to the influences which 
the contemplation of such an amazing transaction ought 
habitually to exert over our characters and lives. While 
ascribing our salvation entirely to this interposition of 
sovereign grace and thus abasing all our pride, let us 
arm ourselves with fresh resolutions, in God's strength, 
to triumph over our selfishness and corruption ; to repay 
such devotion to us with the devotion of all our souls ; 
and, with heart for heart, zeal for zeal, sacrifice for sacri- 



332 



Richard Fuller's Sermons. 



fice, to consecrate ourselves " unto him that hath loved 
us, and washed us from our sins in his own blood, and 
hath made us kings and priests unto God and his Father." 
for a Christ not only on the cross without, but en the 
cross within; a Christ to deliver us not only from guilt, 
but from corruption; a Christ not only seen but felt ; a 
Christ not only represented by these outward emblems 
of his precious blood, but realized by the purifying, re- 
joicing efficacy of that blood upon our souls. 




Simeon's Faith and Consolation. 333 



Srnuou SStjjftteentft- 



SIMEON'S 
FAITH AND CONSOLATION. 

" And behold there was a man in Jerusalem whose name was Simeon : 
and the same man was just and devout, waiting- tor the consolation of 
Israel; and the Holy Ghost was upon him, and it was revealed unto 
him by the Holy Ghost that he should not see death before he had seen 
the Lord's Christ. And he came by the Spirit into the temple; and 
when the parents brought in the child Jesus to do lor him after the 
custom of the law, then took he him up in his arms, and blessed God, 
and said. Lord, nowlertest thou thy servant depart in peace, according 
to thy word, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation."— Luke ii: 25-30. 

"VUHAT shall I do then with Jesus?"— I addressed 
* * you recently upon that question. You are every- 
where in contact with Jesus ; and he appeals to every no- 
ble, generous, tender feeling in your nature. You must 
do something with him. And behold in our text faith's 
answer to that enquiry. What shall I do then with Jesus? 
Faith takes Jesns up in its arms. Though he is thus 
despoiled of all the equipage of his glory, and appears to 
be only an obscure Hebrew child, faith takes him up in 
its arms, in the arms of love, gratitude, adoring confidence, 
and blesses God for his unspeakable gift. I say faith; 
for it is of Simeon's faith I am going to speak ; and then 
of the consolations of that faith. Honor me with all 
your attention. 

I. The faith of Simeon. There have been some dis- 
putes, some very learned discussions, in which theologians 
have undertaken to determine who Simeon was; elaborate 
arguments proving nothing; decisions pronounced with 
great confidence upon no grounds whatever. I have read 

14 * 



334 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

them, but I have forgotten them. I am not here to en- 
tertain you with legends and fictions. 

All we know is, that he was one of those devout men 
who "waited for the consolation of Israel," — that is, for 
the Messiah, who, it would be easy to demonstrate, was 
predictedby this title. With reference to him Isaiah ut- 
tered those exulting strains, " Sing, heavens, and be 
joyful, earth, and break forth into singing, moun- 
tains, for the Lord hath comforted his people;" " Com- 
fort ye, comfort ye my people, saith your God ; speak ye 
comfortably to Jerusalem, and cry unto her that her war- 
fare is accomplished, that her iniquity is pardoned." — 
Indeed to this day, " Consolation " and "the year of con- 
solation" are terms applied by the Jews to the Messiah 
and his advent. 

But, now, this very fact shews how strong was Simeon's 
faith, how entirely it was "of the operation of God ;" for 
Simeon was a Jew, and you know what was the consola- 
tion whicli the Jews expected in their Messiah. Never 
did there glow in the bosom of a nation such a lofty am- 
bition, never did there burn in the human breast such 
high and glorious aspirations. The coming of Shiloh. 
was the theme which caused the hearts of patriarchs, liv- 
ing and dying, to run over with the fullness of their joy; 
which fired the spirit of prophets with unutterable rap- 
ture ; and in prospect of which pious kings were stirred 
with holy impatience ; nor could all regal appliances ap- 
pease the longing of their souls for the fulfillment of that 
promise. He was to be " the glory of his people Israel," 
— their magnificent deliverer. Prosperity had no hap- 
piness which was not augmented, adversity could bring 
no gloom which was not cheered by the inspiring assur- 
ance of a day when Salem should sit as a queen among 
the nations, and should wield a sceptre of universal em- 
pire. 

At the period of time to which our text refers, these 
hopes so earnestly clung to for ages, had been kindled in- 
to irrepressible enthusiasm by the aggravated wrongs un- 
der which the nation groaned, and by the convergence 
of all the prophecies to that epoch as the time when 
Zion should arise from the dust, and her fetters be as 



Simeon's FaifJi ami Consolation. 335 



tow in the fire, and her chains be broken like threads 
from her arms. 

The Romans had overwhelmed them — them., Jehovah's 

chosen people; and on all sides they saw the humiliating 
badges of their degradation. The only coin permitted as 
a circulating medium had Caesar's image and superscrip- 
tion upon it ; so that a dew could not go to market and 
purchase food for himself and little ones without being 
reminded of his subjugation. Marching over the holy 
land, traversing the streets of their sacred city, day and 
night, were hordes of their haughty conquerors. The 
Roman publicans were incessantly at their doors, extort- 
ing fraudulent and exorbitant taxes from those who had 
once received tribute of all the surrounding nations; and 
at the very gates of the temple an Italian band scowled 
upon them, as they passed to worship the God of their 
fathers. Accustomed to regard himself as the peculiar 
favorite of heaven and elevated far above all the rest of 
mankind, to a Jew the Romans were only barbarians, 
idolators, with whom even the common intercourse of 
life would be a pollution. And now to be trampled un- 
der foot by their mailed heels! — never perhaps in the 
history of the world did a captive nation endure the yoke 
with such mutinous hate, such detestation and loathing, 
such an inextinguishable thirst for revenge. 

Oh, but there was "consolation for Israel." Messiah 
would arise to dash in pieces this abhorred foreign des- 
potism, and his advent was near at hand. The people 
were now to be gathered unto Shiloh. He would be "an 
ensign to the nation," around which millions of swords 
were waiting to leap from their scabbards; and there was 
not a Hebrew boy thirteen years of age. who had heard 
from his mother's lips the story of Israel's glory and who 
saw around him the monuments of Israel's wrongs, who 
would not rush to battle and welcome death in such a 
cause as a bridegroom welcomes his bride. Yes, The 
Erkomenos — the imperial hero of all those hopes, desires, 
ambitions which had been transmitted from sire to son 
and had cheered them under oppression and tyranny — 
he was now about to appear and to marshal the hosts who 
thronged to crown him and to follow his triumphant ban- 



336 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

ner until be should, not only scourge their proud invad- 
ers from the soil they profaned, but should tbun ler at 
the gate of Rome itself for indemnification and vengeance. 

Enter, my brethren, into these thoughts. Consider 
how, from infancy down to grey hairs, Simeon had shared 
these national aspirations; and then reflect upon his 
faith as it is illustrated in the narrative before us. We 
are not surprised at the homage which the shepherds 
rendered to the child, for an angel proclaimed to them 
the glory of that birth ; nor at the adoration of the wise 
men of the east, for a star heralded them to Bethlehem. 
But no celestial messenger, no miraculous phenomenon 
had prepared the mind of Simeon for the manifestation 
which breaks in upon his vision. " It was revealed unto 
him by the Holy Spirit that he should not see death be- 
fore he had seen the Lord's Christ." Revolving in his 
thoughts this promise, we represent him to ourselves as 
cherishing the sublimest conceptions of that Being who 
was to be disclosed, as expecting all the pomp of a regal 
coronation; — his imagination wanned, his very dreams 
glowing with vague but magnificent presages of that 
august monarch who is about to ascend the throne of 
David. Instead of this, what do we see ? We behold 
him with a poor infant in his arms, and worshipping 
that humble child as the object of those glorious predic- 
tions, as the consummation of those exalted hopes and 
aspirations which had burned forages in the heart of the 
nation, and had been hallowed in his own breast, during 
a long life by all the fervor of patriotism, all the inten- 
sity of religion. 

He is in the temple. He '-came by the Spirit into the 
temple;" and whenever we enter the temple under the 
guidance of the Holy Spirit, it is that we may see Jesus. 
A divine intimation led him into the sanctuary to see 
his Messiah. God had declared by his prophet ilaggai, 
that " this house should be filled with his glory," and 
that " the glory of this latter house should be greater 
than that of the former," because " the Desire of all na- 
tions" should come there What must be the majesty, the 
divinity of a visitant whose presence will casr such glory 
over this inferior structure, that it shall eclipse ail the 



Simeon's Faith and Consolation. 337 

gorgeous splendor of Solomon's temple. How will he 
come? Wuafc shall be the sign of liis coming? In what 
form will he burst forth like the sun in his noonday 
brightness and illumine all the place? And who will 
be his retinue? What brilliant array can form a proces- 
sion dazzling enough for such a reception ? 

There he is. That is he. And these are his retinue. 
Two obscure Israelites enter in the ordinary way of poor 
people, bringing a babe to be dedicated. But no sooner 
do Simeon's eyes meet them than all his soul catches fire 
within him, his spirit exults and magnifies the Lord, and 
he takes the child up in his arms, wondering, rejoicing, 
adoring. 

In this light the faith of the holy man is astonishing. 
It becomes more marvellous when we recollect another 
fact; I mean his great age. 

This remark will at once strike those who have reflected 
at all upon the physiology of the human constitution, 
and the close intelligence and sympathy which exist be- 
tween the soul that thinks and the body with which that 
soul is united. We are not all spirit, anu the recention 
of truth depends greatly upon the temperament of that 
matter which enters so largely into our composition. — 
With advancing years — after we have reached a certain 
period — the brain becomes dull, the animal spirits vapid 
and languid, the energies inert; so that upon the aged 
new impressions are made with great difficulty, and old 
sentiments are retained with great obstinacy. Hence, the 
old love to talk of former days, and objects cherished in 
early life are constantly recurring and renewing their 
traces in the memory and the heart. 

But we need not be philosophers to feel the force of 
this observation. In everything, especially in religious 
faith and practice, it has got to be an axiom, that any 
conversion of the aged is a miracle. The heart is hard- 
ened, the conscience is stupefied, the sensibilities are 
obtuse, pride of opinion is inveterate ; prejudices are 
rooted — their ramifications becoming entwined about the 
very foundations of character; above ail, old hereditary 
sanctities of birth, education, family, country, church, 



338 Richard Fuller s Sermons. 

repel and resent every suggestion of change. Now, 
apply all this to Simeon, lie is so aged that he is look- 
ing for death every day, and is only detained until he 
shall see the Messiah. During a protracted life he had 
nourished no hope so dear as this. He " waited for the 
consolation oi' Israel." He only lingers that his fading- 
vision may be blest with a sight of the princely deliverer 
promised to his people, the illustrious assertor of the 
glory which had departed from Judah. Vet he rises 
above these venerable aspirations, these intense attach- 
ments, and triumphs in the spiritual reign which that 
child is about to inaugurate. And this change is wrought 
not gradually, but at once. At the very first glance the 
infant is transfigured before him, and in the son of 
Mary his faith sees the Son of God. 

In* this aspect how superior was his faith to that of 
John the Baptist, who — after all that had been revealed 
to him, when removed from his inspiring work, baffled in 
his high-wrought expectations of Christ's kingdom, and 
pining in a dungeon, — begins to feel some morbid doubts 
creep into his soul; how superior to the faith of the 
apostles, who, — even after his resurrection — asked Jesus 
if he would now "restore the temporal kingdom to 
Israel?'' Indeed it is very remarkable that not only 
Simeon, but the woman of Samaria and other Sycharites 
whose confession of faith is recorded in the fourth chapter 
of John's Gospel, and the ancient prophets — though not 
comprehending "what manner ^[' tune the Spirit of 
Christ which was in them did signify, when it testified 
beforehand the sufferings of Christ and the glory which 
should follow" — entertained views, discernments of the 
kingdom of heaven, more spiritual than those reached by 
the Saviour's own disciples before the day of Pentecost. 
The Samaritans said " we know that this is indeed the 
Christ the Saviour of the world," while the Apostles 
clung to the narrow unworthy anticipations of a national 
deliverer. Daniel foretold that Messiah should be cut 
off, but not for himself."' When, however, this truth 
was announced to the twelve, Peter exclaimed. " He it 
far from thee, Lord, this thing shall not be unto thee." 
Isaiah declared that he should be " despised and rejected 



Simeon's Faith and Consolation. 339 



of men," that he would bo " led as a lamb to the 
slaughter;" but the apostles were ever intriguing for 
the most distinguished honors of his royal court. When 
he was arrested and condemned, they*'all forsook him 
and lied ; and after the crucifixion, two disciples, on 
their way to Emmaus — expressing the sentiments of all — 
uttered those words of despair, " We trusted that it had 
been he which should have redeemed Israel." 

You cannot have followed me thus far without feeling 
how strong was Simeon's faith. Take now a second 
characteristic in that faith. I refer to its appropriating 
energy, the eagerness with which it receives and embraces 
" the Gift of God." 

Though a light from heaven had shone around them, 
though an angel had communicated the glad tidings to 
them, and a multitude of the heavenly host had ravished 
their souls with melodious anthems — the shepherds 
satisfy themselves by gazing upon the child, and spread- 
ing abroad the strange things they had seen and heard. 
" And it came to pass as the angels were gone away from 
them into heaven, the shepherds said one to another, Let 
us now go even unto Bethlehem, and see this thing 
which is come to pass, which the Lord hath made known 
unto us. And they came with haste, and found Mary 
and Joseph, and the babe lying in a manger. And when 
they had seen it, they made known abroad the saying 
which was told them concerning the child." Blazing in 
the western sky, an orb of living lire had been the harbin- 
ger of the magi. Yet when they approach the consecrated 
cradle, awe and wonder hold them in mute and reverent 
adoration. They "fell down and worshipped, and when 
they had opened their treasures, they presented unto him 
gifts, gold, and frankincense and myrrh." 

How different the conduct of Simeon. Inspired with 
love, joy, ecstasy, nothing can keep him from clasping to 
his heart the divine treasure. The young and lovely 
mother is folding to her bosom her infant, dear as her 
first-born, dearer still for the sweet mysteries of his 
birth ; and he — a stranger — what right has he to take 
him from her embrace ? Xo such question enters the 
mind of this venerable man ; for in that child he beholds 



340 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 



the incarnation of celestial blessings for the human race. 
TJpon Mary had been conferred the unspeakable honor 
of being the "virgin who should conceive and bring 
forth a son ;" but that son is "Jesus the Saviour," "Em- 
manuel, God with us," " The Wonderful, Counsellor, 
Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace." He 
is " the Mercy promised to the fathers," the Light to 
lighten the Gentiles, and the Glory of his people Israel." 
In him Simeon sees " The Salvation of God," " the 
Consolation of Israel." It is his Redeemer, his life, his 
hope, his joy, his " all and in all ;" and he takes him up 
in his arms, and blesses God, and magnifies the riches of 
graoe and love thus amazingly impersonated. 

And this suggests the only other trait I can now notice 
in the faith of this patriarchal servant of God, which is 
its evangelical character. It was the genuine faith of 
the Gospel. 

What is evangelical faith ? It is the grace which re- 
nounces all saving merit in our own works. " By grace 
are ye saved through faith ; and that not of yourselves, 
it is the gift of God ; not of works, lest any man should 
boast." Such was the faith of Simeon. The highest en- 
comium is passed upon his eminent virtue. He " was 
just," — a man of integrity and uprightness; but not in 
his good deeds, in Jesus alone is his confidence and hope. 

What is evangelical faith ? It is the grace which re- 
nounces all saving worth not only in our good works, but 
in the most conscientious performance of our religious 
duties. Such was Simeon's faith. He " was devout." — 
He was scrupulous in every observance required by the 
Jewish ritual. " Touching the righteousness which is in 
the law, he was blameless. But it is only in the right- 
eousness of Jesus that he finds pardon and justification. 

"Mine eyes have seen thy salvation ;" — ponder these 
remarkable words. With Simeon, Jesus and salvation 
are the same thing. Beholding Jesus, he beholds God's 
salvation — the full, free, only salvation provided for 
guilty man. Did Simeon, then, have any conception of 
the atonement and the sacrifice by which that atonement 
was to be made? Certainly. Besides what I have just 
said of the import of the word " salvation," his language 



Simeon's Faith and Consolation. 341 

to Mary is conclusive upon this point. "And Simeon 
blessed them and said unto Mary, his mother, Behold 
this child is set for the fall and rising again of many in 
Israel, and for a sign which shall be spoken against; yea, 
a sword shall pierce through thy own soul «/*o." What 
this "sword" was, we can be at no loss to understand; 
but who can comprehend the anguish of that mother 
when the cruel iron entered her soul ? Some of you have 
known what it is to " mourn and to be in bitterness for 
your first-born," falling honorably on the field in a cause 
you deemed sacred. Many of us have felt our very hearts 
cleft in twain when a child has died in our arms, with 
all the ministries which the tenderest love could apply 
to soothe its sufferings. What, then, must have been the 
agonies of Mary when she saw her first-born son, — and 
such a son, — one who even amidst the tortures of his 
crucifixion was still thinking of her comfort, turning his 
eyes to her and confiding her to the care of his beloved 
disciple, — what pangs must have pierced her soul as she 
saw this son seized by ruffians, buffeted, mocked, spit 
upon, bending under the weight of the cross, dragged 
through the streets by an infuriated rabbit, with curses 
and execrations, and then nailed to that cross, and ex- 
piring by a death from the very thought of which the 
imagination recoils in horror. By the "sword" Simeon 
meant the violent and bloody death which Mary should 
witness. In that mysterious child he saw the victim who 
would offer himself to divine justice as a satisfaction for 
the sins of his people. 

II. This must suffice for our first article. In the time 
left us I would glance at our remaining topic, — the con- 
solations of Simeon's faith. He waited for "the consola- 
tion of Israel ;" and, with Jesus in his arms, his soul 
exults in the full fruition of that consolation ; he rejoices 
in that child with "joy unspeakable and full of glory." 

The Father of the faithful had known something of 
this consolation. "Abraham rejoiced to see my day, and 
he saw it and was glad." Stauding before the altar upon 
which Isaac was stretched, there streamed upon his 
vision some prophetic glimpses of another altar which 



342 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 



was to be erected on that very spot, and of the amazing 
sacrifice to be there immolated. Moriah caught some 
rays of that light which one day would crown the top of 
Calvary, and become a Pisgah from which Abraham 
fixed his earnest eyes upon the prospect, and gloried in 
the sight. 

To Moses there had been vouchsafed some foretastes of 
that consolation. Admitted to the closest and tenderest 
communion with God, he exclaimed, "I beseech thee, 
shew me thy glory. And, hiding him in the cleft of 
a rock, and covering him with his hand — an emblem of 
the shelter found in a wounded Saviour — Jehovah re- 
vealed some fore-shinings of the great salvation in which 
attributes that seem utterly to conflict are harmonized, 
in which he is just and yet justifies the ungodly, merciful 
without clearing the guilty. " And the Lord passed by 
before him, and proclaimed the Lord, the Lord God 
merciful and gracious, long-suffering and abundant in 
goodness and truth, keeping mercy for thousands, forgiv- 
ing iniquity, transgression and sin, and will by no means 
clear the guilty" 

But Simeoti rejoices in the fullness of the consolation. 
"I have waited for thy salvation, Lord," said the aged 
Israel. "I have seen thy salvation," is the language 
of the aged Simeon. Patriarchs and prophets had "died 
in faith not having received the promises, but having 
seen them afar off;" this venerable saint holds in his 
arms that child who was the consummation of all the 
promises and now what can he desire more? What has 
life to detain him longer? He waited to see Jesus; he 
presses Jesus to his heart. Earth has nothing more to 
give, heaven nothing more to promise; and in the delight, 
the entrancing happiness of a soul which at last pos- 
sesses the long-desired object of its prayers and ador- 
ations, he exclaims, " Lord, now lettest thou thy servant 
depart in peace, according to thy word, for my eyes have 
seen thy salvation." 

These words are generally regarded as a prayer — "Now 
let thy servant depart!" but the original does not allow 
any such construction. The language is very different 
from a prayer. It is the triumphant ejaculation of one 



Simeon's Pcuith and Consolation. 343 



whose devoutest prayer has been granted. The verb is 
in the indicative mood stating the fact that he is now 
allowed to depart; but the indicative is here really more 
than the imperative. It is the rejoicing cry of a prisoner 
who lias been set free — of one who during long years 
had been desiring to depart, and who now sees all for 
which he had been detained on earth accomplished and 
his release perfected. 

Two instances will at once occur to your minds in 
which the very same sentiment, though in a different 
form, was uttered by aged men, in the joy, the repose, the 
perfect satisfaction of their hearts at the accomplishment 
of their warmest wishes. I refer to Jacob and Barzillai. 

For twenty years had Jacob believed that Joseph was 
dead. For twenty years had he gone weeping all his 
days for a son in whom his life had been wrapped up, 
refusing to be comforted, and uttering that sad lamenta- 
tion, "I will go down into the grave unto my son mourn- 
ing." Suddenly he receives the glad tidings from Egypt, 
"good news from a far country'' which are "as cold 
waters to a thirsty soul," and he cries out, "It is enough; 
Joseph my son is yet alive, I will go down and see him 
before I die." "And Joseph made ready his chariot, and 
went up to meet Israel, his father, to Goshen, and pre- 
sented himself unto him, and he fell on his neck and 
wept on his neck a good while. And Israel said unto 
Joseph, Now let me die, since I have seen thy face, be- 
cause thou art yet alive." 

The other case is that of Barzillai. During David's 
banishment from his kingdom, this prince had warmly 
espoused his cause and supplied his wants. When re- 
called to the throne and on his way to Jerusalem, the 
monarch is anxious to confer honors on his faithful sub- 
ject, and presses him to return with him. But Barzillai 
declines, pleading his age. "Thy servant will go a little 
way over Jordan with the king;" and Ghimham his son 
will proceed to the capital, but for himself what charms 
can a court have for him ? It is enough that he sees the 
prince so dear to his heart again restored; let him go 
home that he may die there. - 



344 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

You feel how natural was this deadness to the world 
in these two patriarchal men ; but you feel, too, with how 
much deeper emphasis Simeon might utter the sentiment 
in our text. Rejoicing as was the sight of Joseph, what 
was it to the vision of the Messiah — the object of such 
ardent hopes and aspirations? It was the infirmities, 
the insensibilities of a man stricken in years, and his 
nearness to the grave which Barzillai pleaded for renounc- 
ing the world; Simeon had long been thus weaned from 
all the pleasures and promises of life, but now there is 
added a more powerful motive. Faith has revealed that 
Being, one glimpse of whom turns the whole world into 
contempt. Before his eyes, in his very arms is the dear 
object of all of his loving, longing, waiting ; and he has 
nothing more to do with terrestrial things. It is enough. 
My soul hath her content so absolute, that now to die is 
now to be most blessed. My eyes have nothing more to 
see, my ears nothing more to hear, my heart has nothing 
more to desire. 

But to regard Simeon's language in this view is not to 
exhaust its meaning. In the original the expression is 
very significant ; it is the triumphant exclamation of a 
hope full of immortality. "Lord now deliverest thou 
thy servant in peace and tranquility." He welcomes 
death as the emancipation of his imprisoned soul. " Let 
me go home that I may die," said the Gileadite. " Now 
lettest thou me -die," exclaimed Simeon, " that I may go 
home." With Jesus in his arms, he possesses his pass- 
port to immortal blessedness. " The sting of death is 
sin, and the strength of sin is the law ;" but here is the 
propitiation, the redeeming sacrifice. " Thanks be unto 
God who giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus 
Christ." The darkness of the tomb is appalling; but 
here is "the Light " which dissipates all that gloom, and 
irradiates the grave with celestial brightness. 

I wish I had time to dwell longer on the picture pre- 
sented in this text. An old man with Jesus in his 
arms! — the angels who left the shepherds and went up, 
must have returned tc view the sight; for heaven had 
nothing more worthy of their tender sympathy. And 
let me add that devils can find in hell no spectacle more 



Simeon's Faith and Consolation. 345 

gratifying to their malignity than that which we every 
day behold; an old man tottering on the brink of eter- 
nity, spurning the love of Jesus, and clasping the world 
in bis arms as bis portion and consolation. Hut I must 
hasten to a conclusion, and I finish by applying the sub- 
ject practically to this audience. 

Men and brethren, we have been considering Simeon's 
faith, and have found that it renounced all merit in 
himself, and embraced Jesus as the only and perfect sal- 
vation ; is this our faith? As to the hope of winning 
heaven by the righteousness of the law, I do not feel it 
necessary to speak ; for none of you I believe, are indulg- 
ing that delusion. In the early part of my ministry, I 
often used to set myself to expose this heresy ; but latterly 
I have never touched it; and for the simple reason, that 
it does not seem to me there is any danger from this 
quarter. At least after preaching to you and being 
familiar with you for more than fifteen years, I have 
never met a single man or woman who had any intention 
of being saved by a life of perfect holiness. What I have 
to lament is, that so many of you appear to regard the 
righteousness of Christ as superseding the necessity of 
any righteousness of your own. Simeon was eminent 
for his virtues and graces, and, appealing to God, he 
calls himself " thy servant ■;" yet he reposed entirely on 
the complete salvation which is in Jesus. Is this, our 
character and our confidence? Balaam could wish to 
"die the death of the righteous;" is ours the faith which 
causes' us to live the life of the righteous, and yet in view 
of the judgment, to say, '* That I may be found in him, 
not having mine own righteousness which is cf the law, 
but that which is through the faith of Christ, the right- 
eousness which is of God by faith ?" 

Simeon's soul was filled with peace and joy because 
the eyes of his understanding being enlightened, he em- 
braced the Saviour in the arms of faith. "The Holy 
Ghost was upon him;" and it is the office of the Spirit 
to " glorify Jesus," to take of his fullness, grace, love, 
and shew them unto us. lias Jesus been thus "revealed 
in" us? Have we thus embraced him? He is "the 
gift of God;" have we received him as such ? He is 



346 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

the Saviour of sinners ; — " this is a faithful saying and 
worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into 
the world to save sinners ;•" do we feel ourselves lost and 
ruined, and have we accepted the great salvation, as that 
which is suited to all the fearful emergencies of our con- 
dition ? 

" lie took him up in his arms, and blessed God." 0, 
but faith has wonderful arms. Winning arms; "I count 
all things but loss, for the excellency of the knowledge 
of Christ Jesus my Lord; for whom I have suffered the 
loss of all things, and do count them but dung, that I 
may win Christ." 

Clinging arms ; Jacob gets but one gripe on him, and 
vainly is his thigh weakened, vainly does the mysterious 
Being say, " Let me go, for the day breaketh ;" halt or 
whole, daybreak, noon, or night, he will not let him go 
without a blessing. Loving arms ; " To you that believe 
he is precious." Enriching arms ; for the} 7 gather all 
" the unsearchable riches of Christ." Adopting arms ; 
"As many as receive him, to them gave he power to be- 
come the sons of God." In a word, let faith only get Jesus 
in its arms, and it has him who " is all and in all," the 
pledge of all, the sum of all which the soul can need for 
time and eternity ; " he is made of God unto us, wisdom 
righteousness, sanctification, and redemption." 

We have spoken, however, not only of Simeon's faith, 
but of his "consolation." Has faith shed this consola- 
tion into our souls? Learnedly and accurately we can 
explain all the doctrines of the Gospel ; but have we 
light in our heart as well as in our head ? " The Conso- 
lation of Israel," — not of the Jews, but of all the true 
Israel of God, — this is his title, and well does he deserve 
it. At what time a poor soul, overwhelmed by convic- 
tion, is crying, " Lord, save, or I perish ;" when gloom 
and night overshadow us, and. our hearts are cast down 
within us ; when fainting through Aveakness ; when in 
heaviness through manifold temptations; when sorrow 
and anguish take hold upon us, and our moisture is 
turned into the drought of summer; when notonly with- 
out, but within, the fig tree blossoms not, and there is no 
fruit in the vine," when we walk in darkness and see no 



Simeon's Faith and Consolation. 34? 



light, — thenwhal is fchewholeworldtous-? what can the 
whole world do for us? then, how ineffably consoling it 
is to look to Jesus, to say to liini, " Thou art my hiding 
place, thou shalt preserve me from trouble, thou shalt 
compass me about with songs of deliverance ;" then, how 
do all our fears and doubts vanish away, and peace, 
assurance, joy, How into our souls, as we feel that Jesus 
is in our arms, as, with the heavenly spouse we " hold 
him and will not let him go." Or rather, it is he who 
holds us, and will not let us go. For if we love him, 
it is because he first loved us; if we choose him, it is 
because he first chose us ; if our arms are around him, it 
is because his arms were first around us, — the arms of 
his love, of his sovereign, sustaining, unchangeable, ever- 
lasting love. And as he whispers, "I, even I, am he 
that blotteth out thine iniquities for my name's sake," 
we rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory; we 
exultingly exclaim, 0, love of Christ which passeth 
knowledge! "Who shall separate us from the love of 
Christ ? I am persuaded that neither death, nor life, 
nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things 
present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor 
any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the 
love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord." 

My brethren, I trust that this preciousness of Jesus is 
to you not a speculation, but an experience. After all, 
however, we will never enter into all the import of Simeon's 
consolation and song until, like him, we are about to bid 
adieu to life forever. ISo matter what may be the sweet- 
ness of those hidden joys which are now diffused into our 
hearts, as Ave feel that our Beloved is ours and Ave are his, 
it is only in a dying hour that Ave can fully knoAV the 
peace and blessedness of seeing and embracing the ador- 
able Redeemer of our souls. When the time of our de- 
liverance shall be at hand, when the world shall be re- 
ceding from our sight, and heaven shall be opening upon 
our vision, — then Ave Avill begin to comprehend what it is 
to be Christ's, to clasp Jesus to our bosoms, and to feel 
his everlasting arms around us; then, and not until 
then, can our souls rise to all the rapture of Paul in his 
glowing desire "to depart," and of Simeon when he ex- 



348 Richard Fuller's Sermons. 

claimed, "Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in 
peace, according to thy word, for mine eyes have seen 
thy salvation." 

My poor impenitent hearers, what will become of you 
in that solemn hour ? Without Christ, you are without 
hope or consolation now, and how terrible to you the fast 
approaching hour of yonr departure. What will you do 
then without Jesus ? What will become of you? Who 
will welcome your soul in eternity ? God is my record 
how I long after you. 0, if there be any consolation in 
Christ, if any bowels and mercies, fulfill ye my joy, come 
to this Saviour and accept the blessedness he waits to give 
you. 

Christians, remember the title of him who is the 
strength of your heart and your portion forever. He is 
"the Consolation of Israel;" this is his name; let this 
name make him increasingly dear to you. "God, willing 
more abundantly to shew unto the heirs of promise the 
immutability of his counsel, confirmed it by an oath; 
that by two immutable things, in which it was impossible 
for God to lie, we might have a strong consolation who 
have fled for refuge to lay hold on the hope set before us." 
What wonderful words of assurance are these. May they 
ever dwell in our hearts richly by faith. May the con- 
solations of Christ abound in us now ; may they super- 
abound in the last closing hour. 

"Now our Lord Jesus Christ himself, and God even 
our Father, which hath loved us, and given us everlast- 
ing consolations and a good hope through grace, comfort 
your hearts, and stablish you in every good word and 
work." To him be glory forever. Amen. 




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